Silence of Mimes
by Corona 1
Summary: A young runaway is taken in by V, who steadily becomes the father figure she has always needed. This is her story, the story of Mime. Based on the Movie. Rated T to be safe
1. Chapter 1

Hi there all. I have just become a fan of V for Vendetta (I know, where have I been hiding?). And, of course, after watching it numerous times, I let my imagination run away with me. Thus, this story was born.

Before I get on with the story, I want to apologise in case I make V seem out of character at any point. I'm not exceptionally good at writing a character such as his, but I'll give it my best shot. Just let me know how I do. Also, I know it may seem a little strange for him to have an accomplice, other than Evey, but like I said, I let my imagination run away with me. Please don't be angry with me! Oh, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Evey, she'll come in a little later in the story. I really hope you all like it and I don't get shouted at too much! Oh, finally, this is based on more on the movie than the GN, ok? Just to clear it up.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with V for Vendetta, whether it be the graphic novel or the movie. I only own Ellie/Mime and her foster parents.

Summary: A young runaway is taken in by V, who steadily becomes the father figure she has always needed. This is her story, the story of Mime.

....................changes in place

_Flashback_

'_Thoughts'_

"_Reading"_

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Chapter 1

The torrential downpour was steadily getting worse, the streets reflecting the electric light of the lamps above them, the lamplight itself looking like a halo. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled to an angry crescendo as the storm set in. Not that it stopped her. A limping form moved as quickly as it could down the streets, trying to keep out of sight of anyone. It was five past eleven. Somewhere above the noise of the storm, a loud speaker announced the curfew, that none should be out at that time. Not that anyone in their right mind would be in this. But she had nowhere to go.

Ten year old Ellie Sheridan was a runaway. Her parents had died in custody, she herself being placed in the Juvenile Reclamation Project. That's where she had been picked out, taken in by a couple, hoping that it would be the end of her problems. But it was just the beginning. Her new father was a Fingerman; her new mother was blind to the problems. He was a brute, a sadistic bully who thought nothing of taking his anger out on her young body. And his wife just didn't seem to care whether she ate or not, whether she had clean clothing or not, or whether she was in pain. She neglected the girl, and he beat her. For three long and painful years, she was the punching bag, the stress-reliever, nothing but a toy. This night had been particularly bad. Something had ticked him off, and she was caught in the eye of the storm, with nowhere to run. He'd said it was her fault, her fault that his family had problems. Because she wasn't a 'full-blooded English citizen'. Something had been found out about him, and he was at risk of losing his job. Something to do with her. He knew that he would be investigated. And he had warned her, told her something that no child should be told.

"_Tell anyone about this, and you'll be sorry. In fact, never speak again. No one wants to hear that bloody half Frenchy accent of yours. You say anything, and I'll cut out your tongue. Got it?" he said. And, to make sure his point had gotten across he picked up a knife, sticking the blade in her mouth, lifting her tongue with the blunt end as he held her down. She sobbed in fear, getting quieter and quieter, until there was no sound at all. _

"_Good girl. Now stay like that, you hear? Make a sound, ever, and I'll do right on my promise." Pulling the knife out of her mouth, he struck her hard, winding her. The truncheon next, striking wherever it could. But she didn't cry out. She didn't scream, and she didn't yell. Not one sound escaped her lips. With a smirk, he left her. She waited, waited for the pain to settle, waited for the sound to fade. With a struggle, she pushed herself up, wincing. But she didn't cry out. She looked at her belongings, what little there were. She decided her locket, hung around her neck, was all she wanted to take with her, was all she needed. The one that contained the photos of her real family, the one's she'd seen black-bagged, dragged away from her, never to be seen again. He'd made sure he told her that her parents were dead, told her all the details, told her everything, smirking all the time. _

That had been the last straw. She couldn't take it anymore. She'd already decided on two options, die or run. If she died, he would win, if she ran, he would win. No matter which way she looked at it, he would see her as a coward. And that's how she felt. She felt that she was a coward, running from the problem instead of confronting it. No, she wasn't a coward, she was merely surviving. They wouldn't miss her. That she knew. She hobbled down an alley, stopping momentarily to get her bearings. She couldn't read the street sign, the rain water getting into her eyes, her jaw-length blonde hair sticking to her forehead and cheeks. She shivered, feeling like she was being watched. She limped on, hugging her arms around her. Why hadn't she thought to bring a coat? She shivered, freezing. Finally finding a corner that seemed a little drier, though it was filled with trash, Ellie collapsed, curling as far into a ball as her injuries would allow. Hugging her knees, she silently cried.

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The sound of the thunder drowned his footsteps, the dark night covering him enough so that he wouldn't be seen from the streets below. Not that it mattered. He could take out anyone that tried to apprehend him in the blink of an eye, with very little noise or mess. Besides, no one would be out in this. All they would see of him would be the steel of his knives and the white of his mask, a stark contrast to the black attire he wore. Lightning flashed, momentarily silhouetting his strong, solid form. He stopped above a cross roads, marking where the cameras were, where the wires for the loud speakers led, noting down everything of importance. He stopped, suddenly alert. He heard something. Even over the rain, he'd heard it. A gasp, one of pain and fear. Looking down into an alley way, he picked out a girl curled up between rubbish and rags. He followed where she seemed to be looking. A small group of men. He tracked their progress for a while, waiting to see if they had spotted her as easily as he had. His suspicions were confirmed when they began approaching her. He decided to act.

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Had she fallen asleep? No, it was still night, and she was still in the same spot. But something was different. She was no longer alone. Looking up, she spotted them. Four men nearby. What were they doing out after curfew? They couldn't be...she shifted, gasping when she twisted her ankle. The gasp of pain turned into one of fear as they turned towards her. Even through the torrential rain, she could see there sick smirks.

"Look what we got here, gents. A little rat out in the streets," one said.

"Ain't she that brat Mitchell took in?"

"Hey, yeah, you're right! We should take her back. He'd be happy to see her again. Wouldn't he darlin'?" They smiled, advancing on her. She shuffled back, the adrenaline making her forget her injuries, forget the pain. Not that she could get very far. She was already pressed against the wall. She recognised them; they were her fosterer's colleagues. They knew her; they would take her back to him, back to the hell she had just escaped. He'd kill her for sure! She wanted to sob, she wanted to cry out, but she knew she couldn't, too afraid of his threat, afraid of more pain, but not afraid of death. If they killed her, it would be a blessing. She would be with her parents again. However, fate, it seemed, had different plans. She covered her face as they got closer, hoping to be able to slip into the world she had created inside her mind for moments just as this, where she could be happy and free from the pain, until it brought her back. She became aware of another presence; another, unfamiliar voice. She looked up when she heard them shout, just in time to see the cold flash of steel sink into the leader of the group. It all happened so fast. Ellie watched as someone dressed all in black with a white, smiling face fought off the men. She watched, frightened and yet in awe as he swung and danced a deadly waltz with them, each falling with a thud to the ground, the music of his blades ringing through the air. The last one ran for all he was worth, probably to raise the alarm. The stranger chased him down, and Ellie became very aware of the muffled scream, followed by a deadly silence. She looked around, shock and fear shining in her eyes. She hissed as she tried to move. She'd been there to long, her joints were stiff. She jumped as the man appeared again. He was walking towards her, slowly, as if not to startle her. She hugged her knees to her once again, just in case. He knelt down to her level. There was something strangely calming about his presence, something strong, something that she liked. He wasn't going to hurt her; he had disposed of those who would. He seemed to be looking her over. She was startled when he spoke.

"Don't be afraid, child. I mean you no harm. Did they hurt you?" She shook her head, reaching weakly for the hand that had been stretched out for her. The leather was soft and warm, the hand gentle as it closed around hers, tiny in comparison, pulling her up. She fell against him, no longer having the strength to hold herself up. He wrapped his cloak around her, lifting her into his arms with very little effort. She was soaked through, her tiny frame shaking against his. The young girl seemed exhausted, scared and weak.

"Where do you live, child?" he asked softly. She shook her head violently, spraying him with water. He would worry about that later. She was trying to tell him something. "I must take you home. Your parents will be worried." Again a shake of her head, this time a desperation in her eyes. She didn't want to go home. Why? What had happened? He looked at the bruising on her arms. Could it be? Could she be the victim of an abusive family? Taking her back may prove more dangerous than leaving her out in the open. He looked down at her form, slowly falling asleep in his arms. His mind was made. If she was in danger, he wouldn't allow her to be in any more. And he couldn't leave out here to become the host to more...unsavoury characters. Wrapping his heavy cloak around her tightly, he took off along the streets, taking the routes he had carefully mapped out. Within ten minutes, he was in the tunnels, using secret entrances he had created, taking her to the warmth of his home. She was asleep, cradled against him. He smiled behind his mask.

"Welcome to my home, child. Welcome to the Shadow Gallery."

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Ok, there's chapter 1. I know it's not really long, not really that good, but give me chance. It will get better. Please, don't flame me. Constructive criticism is welcome. I hope you enjoy it.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, so many hits already! I'm glad. I hope you're enjoying it. Here's chapter two. Hopefully you'll like it.

Disclaimer: same as before. If only I did.

.......................................... Change in place

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''Change in time

'_Thinking'_

"Speaking"

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V looked to his young guest, still in his arms. She seemed very relaxed, something he wasn't exactly used to, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. But he knew he had to. He wasn't about to let her sleep in drenched rags and risk hypothermia, though he wouldn't be surprised if she was already suffering from that. He took her to the bathroom, gently laying her down, taking off his cloak and laying it across her. Making sure she was comfortable, he turned on the hot and cold water, filling the bath with the lukewarm fluid. She was too cold for anything hotter. Turning it off when it was half full, V bent down to wake the girl. She stirred slightly, coming round from her sleep. She blinked, looking up into the onyx black eyes of the mask.

"I'm sorry to wake you, my dear, but I have to get you warm and look at those injuries of yours." He looked over her clothes, sighing. What had possessed him to bring her back? He would have to get rid of those clothes.

"I'm afraid I'll have to strip you. I know that this will seem a little indecent, coming from a complete stranger, and a man, but will you allow me to do so? I have run a bath for you so you can warm up." Ellie sat up stiffly, her back was aching. She looked at the stranger, wishing she could see his eyes. She felt a little worried, but immediately relaxed. He had been kind enough to help her; maybe he meant her no harm? And he seemed very apologetic about what he had to do, if not a trifle embarrassed. She smiled softly, nodding her head. She would allow him. He was very decent about it, trying to keep the cloak covering her modesty. Not that it mattered. He wouldn't be the first to see her naked, it had happened at home. No, not home. It wasn't home. At...theirs. She shivered as the air found her freezing skin. The stranger held out his hand to help her up, his head turned away as she unsteadily climbed in the bath. She was grateful for him trying not to disturb her privacy, though he would have to soon enough. His hands gently guided her into the tub, holding her so she wouldn't fall. She hissed, even the lukewarm temperature feeling like boiling water against her skin. He turned his head to her, as she slowly sat down, pulling her knees as far to her chest as she could, and giving her chance to get used to the heat before reaching for the soap.

"By the way, my dear, my name is V. Who, may I ask, are you?" he asked, gently scrubbing her back. So many scars, both from cuts and...Were those brands? And welts? He subconsciously trailed his fingers along some of them, stopping when she shivered and stiffened.

"My apologies, my dear." He wouldn't ask about them yet. His eyes fell on her hands, so small and dainty, as they reached up to her neck. How he hadn't noticed it, he didn't know, but there, glimmering in the light, was a golden chain. She reached up to it, unclasping it and handing it to him. It was a locket, and on the back was her name.

"Ellie. Your name is Ellie?" She nodded. "A beautiful name." She seemed to shy away from the compliment, clearly not used to them. She sighed softly as he poured water down her back, having placed the locket on the cabinet. It was good to feel warm again, the water like a caress in comparison to the harsh rain from earlier. She felt clean again, cleaner than she had in ages. She looked up to her hero with grateful eyes, thanking him silently. He seemed to understand, bowing his head slightly.

The bathing done, V could see her injuries. Cuts and bruises littered her lithe body, most of them on her arms and legs and back. She could stand alone, though she walked with a limp, hissing whenever she placed her foot down. It was swollen and bruised, showing a sprain. The fact that she could put pressure on it was a relief, at least it wasn't broken. There wasn't very much he could do except bandage it and raise it. There was nothing really cold enough to place on it. Other than that, there didn't seem to be any serious, life threatening injuries. The ones that did worry him, and anger him, were the scars on her back and the bruising on the insides of her thighs. From his assessment, he found she had been beaten, tortured, and (making his blood boil) raped. Yet she refused to say a word. Paternal instincts he never knew existed kicked in, making him want to take care of her, protect her, and punish those who had hurt this lovely young creature. And he would. Oh, he would. He would make them pay. No one should be allowed to harm a child in such a cruel, sadistic way! And he would be damned if he let them ever again! He was pulled from his thoughts as she finished wrapping the clean dry towels around her, looking for all the world like an ancient Greek or Roman lady. It surprised him how at ease she was around him. Perhaps after some sleep (some proper sleep, he corrected), she would be different. Perhaps it was a side effect of the shock. Perhaps she would think...'_Stop it! This girl needs your help. Stop wallowing in self pity, man!'_ He sighed, resigning to his own reprimand. She yawned again.

"Come along, Ellie, let's get you to bed. You must be exhausted." She nodded tiredly, reaching up for her locket. Taking hold of it, she slipped back around her neck, fastening it with practiced ease. Her hair had begun drying on its own, but it was still sticking to her chin. That would need sorting before she went to bed. He didn't want her to catch a cold.

"Can you walk?" he asked gently. She nodded, determination shining in her haunted pale blue eyes. She was strong willed, he would give her that much. And, he thought, she would grow into a very lovely young woman. Placing a hand gently on her back, he escorted her through to his dressing room, seating her on his black chair. She looked around the room, loving the dark red of the walls, watching him as he searched out for a shirt and a brush, smiling whenever he looked at her. Her eyelids were getting heavy as sleep began to set in once again. He smiled softly. She certainly did have a calming effect on him, if not on his home. He tapped her shoulder lightly.

"Ellie, come along now. Stay awake just a little longer. I won't be long." She sighed, nodding. Not once did she complain as he gently rubbed her hair with the towel, or as he brushed the knots out of it, though she did wince every now and then. Very soon, her short hair was tatter free, though it was still a bit damp. He supposed it didn't really matter. She smiled as he ran his gloved hand through her hair, just the way her mother used to when she dried her daughter's hair, and the leather actually feeling quite nice.

"There, that's better. Now, I'll leave you alone for a short moment, while you change and then I'll show mademoiselle to her bedroom." Her eyes gleamed, happy memories running through her mind. There weren't many, but they were there. Her mother had taught her to speak French, and she was very good at it, semi-fluent. She nodded, looking to the shirt he had set out for her. She smiled gratefully. V bowed out of the room, closing the door a little behind him. She heard his footsteps down the corridor. Holding the shirt up to her frame, she decided that it was quite nice. The texture was soft, like satin to her skin, and, although it was black, she found it quite inviting. Pulling it on, she found it was quite long on her, smiling amusedly at how the sleeves hung over her fingers. Twirling in front of the full length mirror, she caressed the material, treating it like the finest, most delicate silk. There was a tap on the door, and she quickly limped to it. Opening it up, she threw herself into the surprised arms of her saviour, nuzzling into the jet black fabric of his shirt. He chuckled, pulling away from her.

"I'm guessing you like it?" She nodded, twirling and curtsying in front of him. He bowed, playing along. "Now, if my lady would follow me, I will show you to your room." Ellie blushed a little, suddenly anxious. Why did he keep complimenting her? Why was he being so nice? She had been complimented before, of course, but that usually led to..._'No, he doesn't seem to be like that. He could have by now, at any time, but he hasn't. He helped you, so stop being ungrateful!'_ V noticed the anxious look that suddenly crossed his guest's young face. Kneeling down, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Ellie, I want you to know that I am not going to harm you. And, if at any point you want to let me know what has happened, either by being able to talk or any other form of communication, I will listen my dear. I will lend you my ears." She smiled, nodding. Her eyes were beginning to droop again as exhaustion gripped her young mind.

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The room was like a library with a bed in the middle. She looked around in awe at the sheer mountains of books. She loved to read, and this was heaven! She bounced on the bed a little, enjoying the comfort of it. She saw V standing in the doorway, hands crossed in front of him. Ellie patted the bed next to her, wanting him to sit. V sighed, it was getting late, or early, and she really needed the rest. Oh, ten more minutes wouldn't hurt. He relented, sitting next to her. He was surprised again when she kissed his cheek, well, the cheek of the mask. Quickly climbing under the covers, she smiled up at him, searching the impenetrable mask for any kind of response. Oh well, she could imagine it. She traced her inquisitive fingers over the smile, moustache and beard, then brushed them over the wig. The texture of the mask was beautiful, and the wig felt like real hair. Though it wasn't long before he gently removed her hands. Even a child's curiosity worried him when it came to matters of hiding his face. She started a little as his hands closed around hers, pulling them away, though she relaxed amazingly quickly. What was it about him that relaxed her so? Surely a girl as young as herself, who had been through so much in her young life, shouldn't feel this calm around a complete stranger, especially when they were the only ones around. She just smiled, lying down. He watched as she almost instantly fell into a deep slumber. Smiling, he got up, pulling the covers over her as she snuggled deeper into the warm, comfortable confines of the bed. He left the room, closing the door carefully behind him.

"Sweet dreams, my dear Ellie. Sweet dreams."

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Ellie came round from her slumber, hardly recognising her surroundings. Books, walls lined with them, all in stacks. Her mind wandered to the night before. She remembered running, remembered the cold, remembered the Fingermen. And...Recognition hit her. V. This was V's home. She smiled, excited. Maybe he was up? She threw the covers off her, almost immediately regretting leaping out of bed. She gasped as she landed on her foot, falling back on top of the covers. _'Have to remember that'_. Limping, but trying her best to fight it, she made her way out of the door. _'Wow, this place is huge!'_ She twirled around, looking around the area, not being able to take it all in. What was that? Music? She recognised it. Her father had played it for her mother and her one evening while they sat at the dinner table. That was also the last night she ever saw them alive, before their door was broken down and her happy life was violently ripped apart. No! She wasn't going to cry! She wiped her tears away angrily. She followed the sound of the music, looking in awe at the artefacts around her. Statues, posters, ornaments, things she had never seen in her life and never knew existed, all lined up and set out as if in some sort of gallery. Ellie wished that she had more than one head, or more than one pair of eyes, unable to look at everything at once. The music was getting louder. It was coming from the jukebox. She had seen pictures of them, but never seen one in real life. If it wasn't for her ankle, Ellie was sure she would have run to it. She brushed her fingers over the buttons, down the seams, her eyes drawn to the lights. It was amazing. The sound of something cooking caught her attention, along with the smell. Her stomach growled, and she suddenly realised how hungry she was. She'd hardly eaten the previous day. She followed it, smiling brightly when she saw her hero. She wished she could say something, but ever since last night, her voice seemed to have failed her completely. Her presence didn't go unnoticed.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle. Did you sleep well?" She nodded, watching as he cooked, clapping when he flipped the bread in the pan. He bowed theatrically after placing it on the plate. "Tea, my dear? To go with your breakfast?" She nodded again, practically leaping into her seat. He chuckled as he poured the liquid out for her, replacing the pot on the table. It was only then that she noticed that his gloves were missing. He started when she reached out and gently brushed his bare hand and proceeded to kiss each every scar in her gentle, innocent way. Behind his mask, he bit his lip, every urge to pull away quickly firing. But he didn't want to scare the young girl. She looked up at him with sorrowful eyes as she let go of his hand. Pulling away quickly, he drew his gloves back on. He noticed how she flinched, stiffening, almost bracing herself. But for what? He reached out, his now gloved hand touching her shoulder. She shied away. Oh, now he understood. The realisation tugged at his heart, tying knots in his stomach and sending his anger at those who had done this to her soaring through the roof. She thought he was angry with her. She thought he was going to strike her. He would never do such a thing. He knelt down, looking into her eyes, searching for any hint of fear. There was a spark, but it died so quickly he wondered if he had just imagined it. Something unspoken passed between the man and the child, and the child leapt into his arms. This time, there was no hesitation. The girl needed comfort, and V was going to give it to her. He drew her close as she silently sobbed into his shoulder, arms drawn tightly around his neck. He pulled her further towards him, sitting on the seat next to her, pulling her into his lap, gently rubbing her back, whispering soft words of comfort to her, gulping back his own tears. He wasn't going to stop her crying. She needed it. She needed to cry, to get it out of her system. He waited until they died down, rocking her ever so gently. For ten minutes, she sobbed out her sadness, her fears, her humiliation, everything, pouring it out, every minute seeming to last a lifetime. Finally, she pulled away, wiping at her bloodshot eyes, sniffing. She smiled at the smiling mask, kissing its cheek.

"Feel better?" he asked softly, his voice straining with covered emotion. She nodded, sitting in her chair. She bit into her breakfast, instantly lighting up. Her mother had made 'eggie in the basket' for her once before. She kissed her fingers extravagantly. He chuckled, all sadness seeming to pass in that one simple gesture.

"I'm glad you like it. Eat up, and I'll give you the grand tour." She smiled, finishing her breakfast, then proceeded to follow him.

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Well I hope you're all enjoying it. I apologise if it's going rather slow, the first few chapters always seem to when they're mine. Just so long as my readers are enjoying them.

I had an image stuck in my mind that I thought was the most adorable thing, and I had to write it in. I had the image of Ellie, seeing V's hands for the first time, kissing them better, as children do. I hope I got it across as I saw it. Once again, constructive criticism is welcome. No flames please.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so happy! People like the story! Yay! It's really cool to know you're enjoying it. :)

Just so you know, instead of going through the whole of her life with V, I'm going to skip ahead every now and again. Just to keep it from actually becoming boring.

Right-eeo. On with the story. I will apologise now, because this chapter seems to go rather slowly in comparison to the last ones. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one as much as you seem to enjoy the others.

Disclaimer: only Ellie belongs to me. If you would like to use her, let me know, and I'll try and pry her away from the Gallery long enough.

......................................changes in place

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' changes in time

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

"_Reading"_

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Ellie seemed to be so much happier, something he could quite easily get used to. She had the brightest smile V had ever seen and it warmed his heart. He found out several things about her; her age, her surname, who her parents were. He had been very surprised when she wrote about her parents: he had thought that it would be a very sensitive subject. Yet, there she was, telling him about them. She told him that her mother was French, her father English. Ah, now he could see what problem they would have had from the government. Ellie was only half English. She wrote that they were openly against the war, perhaps a little too openly, which had caused problems, though they weren't quite activists. She had no brothers or sisters, she was an only child. She would've liked to have had a younger brother or sister, but it never came to be. She smiled, all fear seeming to have completely vanished, as if it was never there. All in the space of two days.

Ellie seemed to love his mask. Every opportunity she had, she would stroke it or kiss it or simply smile at the perpetual grin fixed upon it. Sometimes, he found her in his dressing room, looking at the wigs and the spares. He had startled her once when she had tried a wig on, and she was extremely apologetic about it. He had just laughed. It was quite amazing to think how different a person, no matter the age, could look with a simple change of hairstyle. Ellie had smiled about it later.

She loved the Shadow Gallery, loved the ornaments, admired the posters and the paintings. He did notice that she wouldn't touch them unless he gave permission, possibly for fear that she would break them. Even then, her touches seemed to be feather light. The next thing she adored was the piano. He already knew that she liked the jukebox. In fact, anything to do with books, theatre, music and acting she seemed to adore. Yes she liked everything else, child-like curiosity pulling her to each and every artefact, but she especially lit up when she saw the posters, whether they be film or theatre posters, or she heard either himself or the jukebox play a tune. He smiled as her happiness reached her eyes, the light blue seeming to come alive and dance in happiness. He had shown her the films he had...acquired, the ones he thought to be suitable for a child her age. However, he noticed that she immediately went for the few French films he possessed, especially 'Les enfants du Paradis', and any silent movie she came across. She particularly liked Charlie Chaplin, he noticed. Sitting with her whilst she watched, he chuckled as she mimicked the movements of the mime, silently giggling when she caught him studying her antics. He actually found he enjoyed them more than he thought he would. The French film was a little harder to understand, but he was very surprised when she understood practically everything that was said. He was especially intrigued when she told him that it was made in 1945 during the Nazi occupation of France, and that it had been used as a cover by the Resistance. How she knew all this, he didn't really know, though Ellie did a lot of reading. He simply smiled, thinking on his own Revolution. Debureau seemed to be her favourite character, and V had to admit that he was a very intriguing personality. He had to laugh when, after the film finished, she acted out everything she had seen. She was a very fast learner, and quite a gifted little actress, too, especially in comedy and impersonation, a feature he felt may come in useful in later years. She was exceptionally gifted when it came to art, as well. He had left her for perhaps no longer than ten minutes, with paper and pencils, standing in awe when he came back. She had drawn him, paid attention to every detail, shading it perfectly. He found himself admitting that how she had drawn him certainly made him seem very handsome indeed. She smiled, looking rather proud of herself.

"Ellie? My word, dearest, this is amazing! How long did it take you?" She shrugged, scribbling something on the bottom before handing it to him. _"For my hero."_ He chuckled, hooking an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into an embrace, which she readily returned.

"Thank you, Ellie. Thank you so very much." He once again found himself gulping back tears, smiling behind his mask. It was such a simple thing, a picture drawn for him by a ten year old, but to V, it meant the world.

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The weeks passed. Ellie had become integrated into V's life, and he into hers. Every day he watched her grow, smiling at the little things she did. She still hadn't found the confidence to speak, but she didn't need to; her actions spoke louder than words ever could. V remembered the first time he had left her alone in the Shadow Gallery as he went out to finish mapping the surrounding areas, and collecting items she needed. He had been gone only a couple of hours, yet to them both it felt like an eternity. He found he worried about her, being left alone. Anything could happen while he was away; something getting broken, or worse, her injuring herself. She was very responsible for a ten year old, but she was still a child. However, the moment he stepped back through the door, he knew he needn't have been anxious. She was sat where she had been before he had left, still reading. But something was different. He smiled behind the mask. She had tidied. Oh, his dear Ellie, tidying up for him.

"Ellie?" She didn't start as he expected her to. Instead, she turned to him, beaming. Her smile was almost as wide as the one on his mask, her eyes shining with a light of their own. Standing, she ran to him, throwing herself into his arms, snuggling into the silky black fabric of his doublet. He chuckled. "It's very nice to see you, too." He knelt down, pulling away from her. "Now, what have you been up to, my dear?" She seemed a little sheepish; almost embarrassed. "Ellie?" She shook her head, smiling mischievously. "Come on now, dear. What is it?" Clearly she had done more than replace the things she had used. He cocked his head to the side, the way he knew she couldn't resist. V chuckled when he was rewarded by a playful slap on the arm for his efforts. She wasn't going to give in so easily this time, it seemed. He supposed he would have to find out for himself, and hope that it wasn't too bad. He stopped dead in his tracks as he approached the kitchen. Things had been moved, not in their rightful place. But that wasn't what he was looking at. On the table, sat a plate. He gasped, a smile spreading across his face once more. On top of the plate sat sandwiches, clearly made by a child, but still, the thought behind them was remarkable. They hadn't been touched. There was a note sat next to them. Picking it up, V turned to the young girl who stood behind him, her hands held behind her back as she kicked at something imaginary on the floor. He read the note out loud.

"_Dear V. In case I fall asleep, I thought I'd write this. These are for you. I didn't want you to be hungry when you came in. Sorry they're not really good. I hope you like them. Love Ellie." _He sighed, looking to the young lady who stood before him. Her faced had become rather alarmingly red. Why was she embarrassed? He smiled again, wishing for all the world he could remove his mask without the fear of scaring her off.

"Oh, my dearest Ellie. Come here." He knelt down, scooping her up into his arms. He couldn't stop the couple of tears that fell from his eyes. No one, in his memory, had ever done anything like this for him. They were so simple, yet they meant so much. He remembered a quote from her favourite film that she had translated for him. "L'amour est simple."1 She nodded. Nothing was more simple, or unconditional, than the love of a child. How could she have been harmed in such a way? How was it that she still had the strength of character to trust, or to be positive? Reluctantly pulling away, he looked into her face, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen from her eyes with a gentle caress of his thumbs. He sighed as she snuggled into the palm of his hand, loving the warm softness of the leather. She stroked the cheek of his mask affectionately, her eyelids drooping. It was late, and she was getting tired. He swallowed the emotion that had crept into his voice. "Now, mademoiselle, I have a few surprises of my own for you. However, I'm sure they can wait..."He laughed when her head perked up, her eyes lighting. That had her attention. She smiled brightly, looking over to where he had entered. She hadn't seen him put the bag down. Then again, she hadn't heard him enter, either. She waited for him to walk over first, thinking it was rude of her to simply run to her prize. He laughed again as she hung back, though she was clearly excited. He beckoned her over. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a smaller plastic carrier. She smiled brightly at the toiletries she pulled out. They themselves were simple, but worth it. Next he pulled out something that he quickly hid under his cloak. However fast he could be, he simply wasn't quick enough and she spotted him hiding it away. Curious, Ellie tried to see it, but he held the cloak closed, chuckling as she tried to pull it open. She smiled, an idea forming. She crawled underneath the cloak, something he had not expected her to do. He cried out, laughing when her head poked out from behind it, almost as if she was hiding behind a curtain. She certainly was a resourceful little tyke. She smiled, trying again to pull his heavy cloak apart. "Alright, alright. Though, you should know patience is a virtue." She shrugged nonchalantly. He chuckled, opening his cloak and handing the package to her. She felt like it was her birthday, or Christmas, as she unwrapped it. Pulling out the contents, she let it unfold. She gasped. It was a nightgown, a long-sleeved, flowing cotton nightgown in a beautiful deep crimson, delicately sewn flowers decorating it. One of her favourite colours. She smiled, grateful. "Now, my dear. Off to bed with you. It's very late." She nodded, yawning. Ellie looked back at the table, then to V. He spotted the hint of hurt in her eyes. "Once you've gone to bed, I will sit and enjoy them. Ok?" She nodded, running off down the corridor. That was good enough for her.

V waited for five minutes before he walked down to her bedroom. She was lying in bed, clothes discarded, toiletries set out on top of one of the books, she herself dressed in her new night gown. She opened her eyes as he entered, climbing on top of te covers and twirling for him.

"Beautiful, just beautiful. And the nightgown isn't too bad either." She smiled, holding her arms out to him. He sat down, taking the invitation, pulling her into an embrace. She was almost immediately asleep in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Gently, he laid her back down, covering her with the blanket.

"Goodnight, my dear sweet Ellie. May your dreams be happy." He brushed her fringe from her eyes, stroking her cheek lovingly, listening to the rythmic sound of her breathing. _'So this is how it feels to have a child'_, he wondered, as he did most evenings at this time. Well, if this was how it felt, then he was the happiest man alive.

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Ok, there's chapter three. Hope you all enjoyed it. In the next chapter, we'll be jumping forward a few years, just so no one gets confused. I just think it will be easier than talking about every single little aspect of her growing up. But don't worry too much, I will talk about it more, possibly as flash backs, though I haven't fully decided yet.

Oh, and next chapter, the introduction of Evey. Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

I really like how this is going. I like that so many of you seem to be enjoying it. Once again, I'll apologise now in case I make any of the original characters OOC.

We've skipped through time a bit. Ellie is now twelve, and developing into the character we'll see her as when she's an adult. Enjoy!

Oh yeah, just to clear up, I forgot to put the footnote in the bottom on the last chapter. The quote was from 'Les Enfants du Paradis' By Carné. Ok, on with the show.

Disclaimer: I can only dream.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''change in time

..............................change in place

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

"_Reading"_

_Flashback_

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Two years had passed since that fateful night. Ellie was more help than V ever thought she would be. He told her of some of his plans; his plan to blow up the Old Bailey, destroy Parliament, things he thought she could handle knowing, and she helped him set things up. She helped him with creating the explosives (well, as far as he would let her), helped him mapping out the surrounding areas and places she knew. She was constantly happy to help. However, he wouldn't tell her of his personal vendetta, wouldn't tell her how he planned to kill those who had deformed him. Not yet. Not until she was old enough to truly understand. Even then, he may skirt around the subject. He had become very used to her silence, very used to her over the top, exaggerated actions. He had begun light-heartedly calling her Mime, something she really didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to adopt the persona, in more ways than one. There were times when she donned dazzling white make-up, lining her eyes and lips in black, pushing her hair under a short black wig. He had hardly recognised her when he came in from one of his nightly excursions, only realising it was her by her smile. She had been lucky; defensive reactions had kicked in as he reached for one of his knives. Yes, she had been very lucky indeed when she'd turned and smiled brightly when she saw him, not at all caring that he could have very easily killed her.

Yes, Ellie was becoming exceedingly engaging as a character. He would stand, watching her as she 'conducted' an orchestra whenever he played a classical piece (and did so exceptionally well, he had to admit), or mimed dancing the waltz with some lucky gentleman to one of the slower songs. She didn't get as embarrassed anymore when she caught him watching her; in fact, most of the time, she would mime bowing to her invisible partner and pull him into her world instead. She was always smiling, hardly ever seemed to be down, even after everything she had been through. It was that particular attribute that cheered him up when ever he felt down or something was bothering him, and she was never truly content until he was veritably rolling over in laughter. She loved an audience, loved the attention, seemed to thrive in it. And all, she'd pointed out, because of him. V had brought her out of her metaphorical shell, helped her to open up, to feel free in being herself; never judging, always there. She felt she was his daughter, and he felt like a father. But, there was always that nagging, gloomy feeling that one day she would see his other, darker side; the side he saved for his victims, the side that was the Killer. When that day inevitably came, would she still see him as the loving father figure she did now? Or would she hate him? Run from him? He wouldn't admit it, but that thought constantly scared him. He didn't want to lose the one thing, the only thing, that had made him feel anything besides anger and hate. She made him feel something deeper, brighter and warmer. She made him feel wanted, needed, loved. Loved only as a child could love.

This evening, though, something was different. It wasn't often that she came to him in the middle of the night; if she did it was because she was afraid after a nightmare. She was scared about something, her eyes wide and watery with unspilled tears, seeming very unsure and looking for all the world like a little deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle- scared stiff.

"Ellie, my dear, what's wrong?" he asked, placing his book on his lap. He noted how she tensed slightly. She seemed extremely nervous about telling him, in her own way, what the problem was.

"Are you not well? Or have you had a nightmare?" He cocked his head to the side, showing the concern that was hidden by the Fawkesian mask. That did it. She burst into tears, very much taking him by surprise. Her silent sobs pulled at his heart as he hurried to her, taking her into his arms, cradling her until the sobs died down.

"Ellie?" She pushed away from him, taking hold of his hand, and leading him into her bedroom. She was nervous, almost expecting him to be angry with her. But why? Ah, now he understood. She picked up the light blue jeans he had obtained for her, pointing at a patch of red. Blood. Only a small amount, but very prominent against the light hue of the material. He knew about this, he knew it would happen eventually, if it hadn't already, though she seemed like she knew what it was. Ellie was shaking, terrified, her eyes constantly searching his form for any sign of anger, any sign that she should be afraid. She suddenly remembered a rather unfortunate night when she was in her foster home.

_She was waiting to go to the bathroom. Her foster mother had been in there for ages, and she really needed to go. But she couldn't knock on the door, fearing the consequences. Her young body froze as it relieved itself ever so slightly. And then came the tears. It was only a small amount, but it was noticeable. Then __**he **__came up the stairs and spotted her outside the bathroom crying. Oh, Heavens above! When he saw what had happened, he snapped. He yanked her to her room and made her strip down to her underwear before releasing his belt. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her to the wall, pushing her front into it. The dark anger surrounding him was enough to make her yelp before the first thrash came. The buckle hit her back first, easily cutting through her skin. She screamed, she cried, she pleaded and apologized. When he was finished with her, she was a quivering wreck, heaped on the floor against the wall. Grabbing hold of her, he dragged her along to her most hated area, the cellar. He pushed her into the corner, tying her wrists to the piping with a coarse piece of rope. _

"_You little bitch! Learn to hold it in next time!" He threw her clothes at her, leaving her in the dark cold with only her thoughts for company. It was while she was down there that the fear took over, making her lose control, causing her to empty her bladder. She cried, ashamed of herself._

The light had hurt her eyes when they finally decided to let her out. Her foster mother wouldn't look at her, and when she did, the disgust on her face was unbearable. She remembered all the names they called her. 'Piece of filth', 'disgusting little rat'. She had been locked in her room, in her soiled underwear, no one caring about her. She looked up at V. He had been saying something. She hadn't been listening. Oh God, she hadn't been listening! V was looking at her. She couldn't see the expression on his face, just the constantly smiling face of Guy Fawkes. And right now, to her young mind, that smile looked menacing. She had been remembering, she hadn't heard him. When she flinched away from the hand he went to place on her shoulder, his gut twisted.

"Ellie, my dear. There's nothing to be afraid of." Tears spilled down her cheeks. He wasn't angry with her? But, she hadn't been listening! Why wasn't he angry? Why wasn't he punishing her? Why was she feeling like this? Why now?! He knelt down in front her, his voice soft as he spoke to her.

"I am not angry at you, my dearest. It's alright. You don't need to be afraid. Not of me." He beckoned her in to his embrace, and she didn't hesitate. "My lady, my little lady, I would never, will never, and could never, harm you. I couldn't be angry with you if I tried. Not with you." Her body shook violently as she sobbed. V pulled her into his lap, hugging her to him, rocking her, much the same way he had earlier. Ellie looked up into the obsidian eyes of the mask. He wasn't angry. She looked at the jeans on the floor, the offensive stain staring back at her. She had bled before from...there, but that had been a long time ago, and in very, **very** different circumstances. Circumstances she didn't want to think about. V lifted her, the clothing and the undergarments up into his strong arms, taking them all into the kitchen. What was happening to her? Why was she remembering now? He poured a strong cup of tea, talking to her soothingly as he did so. She picked it up with quivering hands, taking a nervous sip. She knew what was going on with her body, she knew what it was. She did a lot of reading whenever she was left alone at theirs. She had done a lot of reading with her parents, and she had asked them a lot of questions. Her father, she remembered, had been mortified with a particular question, but her mother simply laughed at him, telling her that it was a woman's thing, before making her favourite hot chocolate before sitting down and telling her everything she needed to know. No, that hadn't terrified her. What had had her petrified was not knowing how V would react to it. She had envisaged him flying off into a rage, shouting and..._'No, you silly little girl. He's not like that. He's never once raised his voice to you, never once laid a finger on you. Not once. He loves you, girl. He loves you like you were his own. Silly, stupid little brat.' _

She finally relaxed, looking up to her hero. He had tipped his head to the side, looking (she thought) so adorably cute that she couldn't help but smile.

"There, that's better. You should smile like that more often, my dearest. You have the most beautiful smile." She flushed. V smiled warmly behind his mask. Was it learned modesty, or was she modest by nature? He supposed it was a bit of both. He found himself wishing he could help her that little bit more, also finding that he wanted her to tell him somehow who had harmed her in such heinous ways. He would have to head out anyway, to check on things. He added the things he needed to get for her onto his 'to do' list for the evening.

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"Now, my little Mime, I shall not be gone too long. Possibly an hour at the maximum. I know I don't need to tell you this, but be good. I don't want to have to come back and find you injured anywhere. Understood?" She nodded. "Very well then. Until next we meet." He bowed, before pulling her into a quick, strong embrace, his cloak encasing both of them. He turned, only to here the click of fingers behind him, using his enhanced reflexes to catch his hat as it flew to him. Ellie possessed a surprisingly good aim. He chuckled, placing it on his head and bowing again in one fluid motion. She curtsied, waving to him as he left. Now what? She could draw, she supposed. The tissue folded around her underwear didn't feel very comfortable, but until V brought her things she needed, she would have to make do. She decided to explore, knowing the rooms she could go in and the ones she couldn't. She loved his dressing room, constantly trying on the different wigs, smiling as each one made her look and feel different. She had cut her hair earlier that month, with his supervision, meaning that her hair stayed short. She decided she didn't like her own hair long, preferring the wigs. They could be changed quickly, and she was always careful not to tangle them. She had drawn several different looks based on what she saw in the mirror. They were all of her, but with each drawing, she looked like a different person. Maybe that would come in handy one day? Her next stop was his 'costume wardrobe', as she had christened it. She looked through the discarded items at the bottom, those that had fallen off their hangers or V hadn't had time to throw out, ripped ones, worn ones, anything and everything that had been damaged beyond repair. Ellie liked to material of some of them, the softness of velvet and the smoothness of silk. Together, they felt like a wonderful combination. Perhaps she could persuade him to let her have some of them; possibly create her own for when she was older? Moving a long, she came to her room, looking through the books. There was one that took her fancy, but when she opened, Ellie was surprised to find it was blank. Every page was blank. Maybe he hadn't realised; it had been pushed to the back of the piles after all. She skipped through it; nothing. No words, no pictures, no diagrams, just plain, blank, ordinary paper. It was a diary. She suddenly found that she wanted to write, not what every other girl would want to write about, but she wanted to write her own autobiography. She had lived with V with the past two years. He had told some things, about how he had been caught in a fire (of his own making), how he had found this stunning place and made into the glory that it was today. She felt she was neglecting him, withholding information from him. She wanted him to know what had happened. She kissed the locket around her neck, her young mind suddenly feeling more mature than it should have. Finding a pencil, she made herself comfortable on the bed and began to write.

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It was rather quiet out as V stalked along the streets. The Fingermen were out in force. He smiled under his mask. It was a while yet before he planned to make himself known to the Londoners, and the government. They already knew a little of him as a vigilante, but they'd passed him off as a wannabe rebel. They would catch him in due course...they hoped. There was one Fingerman that he was intrigued by, a burly looking fellow with an equally nasty feel about him. Could he be the one that had taken her in? He shook his head. _'Focus, man. You can deal with that later. Right now, supplies are needed.'_ He sailed around the streets and down the alleys, absently wondering what his little girl was up to. He ducked into the shadows as an officer stalked past. He looked up at the loud speakers before checking the coast was clear. He supposed he could cause a little disturbance, just as a taster of what was coming in two years time. No, no, he couldn't. He had promised Ellie that he would only be an hour. He stole into an alley behind a pharmacy, picking the lock with a skeleton key, using his almost inhuman speed to reach the alarm before it went off. They were surprisingly easy to crack, though it may be quite difficult for your average petty thief. He didn't really know what to look for, so he played it safe, picking up a pack of thick sanitary towels, stealing out of the shop again, activating the alarm again on his way. Deciding he had done all he had to for that evening, he silently climbed the fire escape, running silently along the roofs back to the Gallery.

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Ellie had done all she could for the night. She never realised how hard it was to write about her experiences, every time she thought of them, she wanted to break down. But no, this needed to be done. She wasn't even half way through when she heard the door to the Gallery open. Finishing her sentence, and grateful of the distraction, she put the diary away and ran to meet him.

"Ah, there you are." She beamed, hugging him before he had a chance to take off his hat and cloak. He chuckled, though he did notice a sad look in her eyes. He decided not to press her too much. If she wanted to talk to him, V would let her in her own time. Ellie felt the padding under the heavy material, smiling in thanks. He produced the items she needed. She beckoned him down to her, kissing his cheek in gratitude. Saying her goodnights, the twelve year old ran to the bathroom to change the uncomfortable feel of the tissue paper for some proper padding. V chuckled again, waving back to her as she walked down the corridor to her room. He seemed to be doing that a lot since she had been around. She certainly did brighten his heart. He still hadn't forgotten her aim, either. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow he would begin showing her how to defend herself. He wouldn't let her out with him yet, she was still far too young, but perhaps in a couple of years' time? He would want her there with him when he destroyed the Old Bailey, and he had a feeling that she wouldn't miss it for the world. Yes, tomorrow. Tomorrow he would teach her to fight.

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Chapter 4 up! Hope you're still enjoying it! Yeah, I know I said that I would bring Evey into this one, but I told a little white lie. I felt this one was necessary to write, just to show their bond after two years of being together. Also, I realised that I was leaning too much on Ellie as a character, hence the brief look at V on one of his...nightly excursions. Also, in case you're wondering why she's only just started remembering, I felt that something like a first period would be quite stressful for her and cause some repressed memories to come back, especially if the situation harkens back to a similar event. Something like that, anyway. Don't hate me too much! Constructive criticism is, as always, welcome. I don't like flames.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm actually really getting into this story of mine. I'm on a role at the moment. Thanks to everyone have sent such lovely reviews! They're all great!

Ok, so in this chapter, V's going to teach our girl to hold her own in a fight, should she ever need to. I'll apologise now in case it doesn't turn out as well as I want it too. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: think of the possibilities if I owned the rights to VfV! (sigh) Only Ellie is mine.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''change in time

...........................................change in place

'_Thinking'_

"_Reading"_

_Flashback_

"Talking"

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Ellie woke the next morning to the sound of clanging metal. Intrigued, she raced to the lounge area to watch V, dressed in his light grey satin shirt and dark fencing vest, duelling with his suit of armour...again. She sat and watched in amusement as he lunged and parried, fending off an imaginary sword, constantly talking to his 'fat, metal friend' as if it was a real person, and completely oblivious to the fact that she was there. In the background, old music played. Ellie looked passed the highly amusing scene to watch the old black and white movie she recognised easily. It was on what seemed to be his favourite scene, the duel. She cocked her head to the side, as she'd seen V do on many occasions, jumping in surprise when the helmet came flying across the floor towards her. She grinned as he brushed at the wig, ducking his head in embarrassment at being caught training/play fighting yet again. She clapped and smiled.

"I'm glad to have your approval, my lady," he stated, bowing theatrically. She stood, curtsying elegantly, well, as elegantly as one could in her pyjamas. Placing the sword back on its rightful stand, he turned to the twelve year old, offering her his arm. She had grown quite tall for a girl of her age, her head almost reaching V's shoulder already, and he wasn't exactly short. She accepted his arm, allowing him to escort her to the kitchen.

"What would mademoiselle like to eat today? Something different from the usual, perhaps?" She nodded thoughtfully before smiling and finally shrugging. This amused V to no end. It was always the same answer. Shaking his head, he seated her before searching for anything she may like.

"Actually, Ellie, I was hoping to talk to you today." He looked to her as she cocked her head to the side. He smiled behind his mask. She'd picked that up from him. She beckoned him to continue. Closing the door to the fridge, he leaned against it. "Well, I have been doing some thinking. As you know, I plan to cause...a little music of my own, if you will, in a couple of years' time." She nodded. "Well, I was wondering if you would care to join me." She looked at him, frozen in her seat. Her eyes lit with the fires of joy as she nodded enthusiastically. Just as he thought; she wouldn't miss this for the world. He laughed, before becoming serious again. "In that case, what I'm going to ask shouldn't come as a surprise to you." Again, she cocked her head. "There will, in all probability, be trouble on the opening night, as it were, and I need to know that you can look after yourself. If you are to come with me, I can't be worrying about how you are fairing if we run into opposition. Do you understand?" She nodded thoughtfully. He continued. "Which is why I was thinking, perhaps after breakfast, I could start teaching you the arts of defence. I won't start teaching you offensive styles until I know that you can, in fact, defend yourself properly." Her eyes shone with fiery determination. She nodded again. "Very well. Now, back to my previous question: what do I cook for you?"

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Breakfast became bacon and eggs for her. If he was going to train her properly, he wanted to know that she was well fed and rearing to go. She seemed to come alive with a new vigour, rushing off to get changed quickly after eating. He laughed, more to himself than anything else.

"And so it begins." She almost ran back into the room, dressed in black sweat pants and a short sleeved, smoky grey tee-shirt, her short hair pushed out of her eyes with a black head band. He was surprised at how fast she had been. She was bright and alive, almost as if she was about to run a marathon. He couldn't help but notice how much she had developed in the past couple of years, already starting to fill out with the curves of a young lady. She had the slight build of a gymnast, and now he was going to teach her his ways. She actually seemed to be looking forward to the training, almost as if she had been planning to ask him for a while. He stood waiting as she stretched, shaking all the kinks out before standing in front of him patiently. He beckoned her to follow him, and she obediently did so. Searching through the training equipment he had collected over the years, he found sparring pads small enough for her. Handing them to her, he waited as she slipped them on over hands and feet.

"Are you ready?"She nodded, serious. She was excited, nervous, scared and determined all at the same time, making it quite a heady mix. "Very well. First we'll start with the basics." She copied his movements, each one etching its way into her memory. Everything he did, she copied; his stance, the way his arms and legs moved as he blocked imaginary assailants, how he twisted his body to defend against other attackers, everything. He was constantly amazed at her skill, her lithe body seeming graceful. He had been teaching her for most of the day before he felt she was ready for him to (albeit, gently) 'attack' her while she defended. He warned her about what he was going to do, and she nodded, taking her stance, watching as he balled his fist, raised it and brought it forward, making sure to keep his usual power out of it. She suddenly became frozen to the spot, repressed memories storming back to the forefront of her mind. As he brought it down, he saw the fear flash over her eyes as she covered her face to protect herself, the image of V suddenly changing to that of her foster father, the smiling face of Guy Fawkes transforming into the sickening smirk of...him. She was knocked backwards, forgetting her footing, tripping over a weight and landing heavily on her backside. V was instantly at her side.

"Ellie, are you alright?" Her eyes were glazed over, her mind lost to memory. She glanced at him, scrambling backwards away from him, her back meeting the wall. She was reminded of the night she had escaped, the training room morphing into the alley, the cold and the rain assaulting her badly beaten body. She trembled as he slowly came over to her. She couldn't breathe! She was gasping for air, clutching her chest. She felt dizzy as everything swirled. V knelt next to her, but she didn't seem to recognise him. She was shaking uncontrollably as the panic and terror seized her mind, trying to get her breath back, but failing. All she could see were spots, sparkling in front of her eyes, the edges of her vision beginning to fade.

"Ellie! Ellie, breathe!" She recognised the voice, but it sounded so far away that it seemed distorted. Ellie took a mental step towards it, but it was a step too far. Instead, she tripped and fell into the realm of unconsciousness.

V scooped the slumped girl up, carrying her out of the training room. He had terrified her, absolutely terrified her! _'What were you thinking, man!? You know for a fact that it's too soon to do this!'_ Gently, he placed her on the couch, tilting her head back slightly, making it easier for her to breathe. Her breathing had calmed and the proper colour was coming back to her face. He poured her a glass of water before coming to sit next to her. She stirred, bleary eyes meeting the world.

"Ellie? Ellie, my dear, are you alright?" She focused on the calming baritone of his voice, turning to find the smiling mask looking down on her. She looked around, getting her bearings. "You're in the lounge, dearest. You passed out." He helped her to sit up, handing her the glass of water. Slowly sipping it, she seemed to be trying to remember what had happened. She looked up at the man, the same man who had saved her life.

"My little Mime, forgive me. I pushed you too hard. This is your first time, and I pushed you further than you were supposed to go." Ellie cocked her head. What was he talking about? Oh, that's right. He was teaching her to defend herself. _'Ha! Like __**you**__ could ever do that! Stupid, weak, little girl! You can't even handle simple blocks! Why is he even bothering with __**you**__?' _She mentally batted the snide voice away. She must have seemed ashamed, for his arms encased her shoulders. Ellie readily accepted the embrace, allowing tears to fall. She heard him speaking.

"I believe that's enough for today. Perhaps tomorrow? I'll be easier on you..." He was stopped by her shaking her head. She didn't want to do that again? No, he caught sight of the sudden fiery purpose shining in her light blue eyes. She didn't want him to go easy on her. She wanted to learn how to fight! She wanted to learn how to defend herself properly! But how was she going to really know how to do all of that if he was going to go easy on her?! V chuckled lightly as she folded her arms across her chest, furrowing her brow and trying her utmost to look indignant.

"My dear, I do not want to harm you, and if I don't go easy on you, I fear I will. However, I am also willing to wait until you, and only you, feel perfectly capable of standing your ground without your fears taking over, as they did today." Her arms dropped, her face saddened and her head bowed. V sighed. "I'm not angry with you. Granted, I am a little disappointed, but more with myself than with you. You have been through a lot, far more than any child ever should have been, and I momentarily forgot that fact. I pushed you too hard, too far, and caused you to panic. I won't do that again." He laid his fingers under her chin, gently lifting her head. He continued, using his thumbs to softly wipe away stray tears. "I would never intentionally cause you harm, you mean too much to me for me ever to do that. However, you must understand that I am more than I appear. I can't, and won't tell you what I mean now; you are too young to understand. Don't look at me like that, you are." She'd cocked her eyebrow at him, shaking her head. He paused, thinking over what he was going to say next. "My dear little Mime, you are twelve years old, far too young for me to burden most parts of my personality on you. I simply ask that you understand that I have an ugly side to my person, as well as the side that you see, and I intend to protect you from it." He sighed, shaking his head. He'd already said too much, and he could see the curiosity shining in her eyes. He found himself wishing that she was able to speak, just so he knew what was running through her mind. After a moment, she nodded reaching up and pulling him into an embrace. _'How the table can turn, it should be I, not she, doing the comforting.'_ He sighed when he felt the slight pressure of her kissing the cheek of his mask, as she always did when she was attempting to make him feel better, or thanked him, or just on a whim. _'Such a loving young lady. How could anyone dare to harm her without feeling ashamed?'_ He pulled away, looking into her eyes. The fear, no, the **terror** he had seen in her eyes had completely vanished, as if it was never there in the first place. Behind the mask, he smiled.

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V searched the Gallery. Where was she? He had left her alone in the lounge for five minutes to prepare a meal, and when he got back, she had vanished! But where? He wasn't worried, not really, knowing that she could really be that far away. He had shown her the tunnels once, and she had expressed her dislike of being in them for too long on her own, so she was in the Gallery somewhere. He stopped, using his heightened senses to locate her. The soft thud of naked feet alerted him to the training room. Walking ever so cautiously, he stopped in the door way, leaning against it, watching. Ellie had gone in by herself, determined to prove to herself that she could do this. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she recited the moves. Every time she made a mistake, even a tiny one, she started the kata all over again, perfecting each and every move until it became her own. He was impressed. Even after her blackout, she remembered everything he had told her: where to place her feet, how to ground herself, how to hold her hands and arms, how to absorb most of the power of a blow. She had them engrained in her memory; her style making the art into a dance, each move was graceful and perfectly placed. As he watched, she began getting faster, her blocks stronger, her eyes burning. She was imagining something. What did she see? She began mixing them up, almost as if she was defending herself from a gang, twisting this way and that as he had shown her. The training had been quite intense, he realised now as he watched her, and she had taken to it with a passion. He decided that she had trained enough for the day, her brow shining in sweat from the exertion. She jumped when she saw him, blushing. He entered, clapping.

"Bravo, my dear, bravo. I must say I am surprised at how quickly you have taken to it, and how much you have remembered. We'll do more tomorrow, only with the art of attack added into the equation. Alright? But right now, mademoiselle, dinner is served." She smiled, welcoming the break. V watched her face soften as he led her to the kitchen. Whatever she had been imagining had passed for now. V found that he was looking forward to helping her harness the stronger, darker emotions, turning them into power. If she was as strong at attacking as he thought she may be, he wouldn't have to worry as much about her looking after herself as he first thought.

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V was increasingly surprised by and became ever confident in the young girl's progress. Each time he taught her something, she took to it as if it was the best thing in the world. Her style matched his own, even if it was a bit shaky, but her strength, especially for a girl of her age and build, was more than he had hoped for. He remembered the first lesson of attack, how he had shown her how to focus her energy into her point of attack, then told her to hit his palm. If he was honest, he hadn't expected the strength behind the punch, actually wincing when it made contact. The punching bag was her favourite 'victim', however, as she centred all of her anger and pain on the poor thing. By the end of each workout, she was positively exhausted, but glowing with pride.

Within two months, she was able to match him in sparring, even managing to use her height to her advantage, getting under his attacks and using his momentum to floor him. And each time, he couldn't help but laugh at the triumphant grin that spread across her face. However, she constantly forgot to keep her footing as he swept her feet out from under her, causing her to land on the mats. She silently laughed every time he tried to 'teach her a lesson', mainly pinning her down and tickling her into submission. Even then, she fought him, though he did notice each push or punch was half-hearted.

By the age of thirteen, she had progressed immensely, without any panic attacks, and without many problems. If ever she became scared of the actions V was about to take, she used the emotion, refusing to let it consume her again, the passion in her eyes practically burning. V became ever more confident in his young student and her abilities, even allowing himself to use more and more of his own strength in his attacks, teaching her little by little to hold her own, knowing that in a real fight her opponent would not be so lenient. She became ever more graceful in her style, taking what he had taught her and making it her own, until their styles were similar, yet different. She even used her new gymnastics in her 'acts', constantly making him laugh when ever she performed her favourite: flipping over the sofa, intentionally landing unsteadily and falling back over it, rolling and landing on her feet again. V taught her everything he knew about wielding weapons; how to disarm someone quickly and effectively, fencing, everything. Even how to kill their opponents cleanly. Ellie seemed a little nervous about that part, but she pulled it off very well, efficiently 'killing' each one of his mannequins. V noticed how she favoured the knives and a whip, though he had to admit that the long accessory was one of the only items he possessed that he knew very little about. In effect, Ellie became self taught, turning the tables on V and teaching him instead. She could pull things towards her, knock weapons out of the hands of her opponents, and even use it as an accessory to pull herself out of a situation. But it was the sound it made that seemed to be the attraction. The crack made him jump a couple of times the first time she used it, though it was mainly through memories of Larkhill. However, he did become used to it, mainly because of his trust in her. She amazed him, and every day his pride in her grew. She was almost ready to face the outside world again, and in one year, she would.

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Chapter 5 up! Yay! Ok, I know, still no Evey. She will come into it, I promise, and very soon. It's just taking a little longer than I first thought to get there.

I want to take this moment to thank all the people who have read and reviewed my story. You know who you are. Thank you so much, guys. I'm really glad you're enjoying it!

Freedom! Forever!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey there guys! First of all, before I continue, I want to thank everyone who has read my story. Also, I want to thank SiriusDoctorWhoHoney329 for her absolutely wonderful poem/review. It was beautiful.

Right then, we've skipped forward one year. Ellie is now fourteen years old. It is November the fourth. We all know what that means. Watch out for fireworks.

Disclaimer: only Ellie/Mime belongs to me.

.....................................change in place

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''change in time

.............''''''''''''''''''''''...........change in place and time

"Talking"

'_thinking'_

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The night air was crisp and fresh, unlike it had been all those years ago. Ellie stood on the roof of the place she had come to call home, smiling and breathing in the November breeze. She loved this time of year, always had. A mist hung in the air, the dampness almost like a caress sending shivers through her frame, mixing with her anticipation. She'd wanted to see the sunset before she finished getting ready. Next to her stood the only other person she trusted in the world. V looked to her, a smile behind his mask. She seemed so happy out in the air. Then again, she always seemed happy. No matter what happened, grief and distress just didn't seem to be able to hold on to her. She was like the sun, the frost melting under it. Ellie looked up at her hero and smiled brightly. She had grown so much in the past year, no longer the little girl V had taken in from the cold. She was tall; her body slim with curves in the right places. Her gymnast-like physique made her seem taller, elegant. Her hands were, at this moment in time, encased in beautiful black leather riding gloves, giving their daintiness an edge. She seemed older than she was, her eyes shining with a wisdom beyond her years, something behind them that couldn't be pinpointed but could be seen. She could quite easily be mistaken for an adult. And yet, she still possessed her child-like qualities. Was it naivety? No, he didn't think so. Optimism, yes, but a realistic optimism. She knew the problems of the government; she knew better than most people the crimes of those in power. She was a walking, living, breathing example of the effects of a totalitarian regime. And yet, she still managed to look on the bright side of things. He looked back over London.

"Are you ready for tonight?" he asked softly, as if not wanting to disturb the silence. She nodded, her eyes glinting with the fires of excitement. He looked back to her, looking at her attire. He was very proud of that. They had sat for hours; cutting, stitching and fitting his old and worn clothing into this masterpiece, making it seem like a brand new costume. Ellie wore a black, crushed velvet all-in-one; the silk highlights a stark contrast to the softness of the fabric. Light weight Kevlar had been sown underneath the main body, adding protection to the more vulnerable areas. The trousers flared slightly, giving her ease of movement, her own black low heeled boots covered by the material. On her thighs sat throwing knives, smaller than his own yet still as deadly, especially in the hands of one such as Ellie. At her hip, from a specially constructed belt, hung her whip, the black leather standing out against the velvet.

He was not worried about her keeping up with him. She had been out with him already on several of his escapades. He had very nearly changed her name from Mime to Cat, her grace was astounding. She was like one of his knives: silent, beautiful and very deadly.

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It was time. Reluctantly, the two descended from the roof. It was so peaceful, and in just a couple of hours, they were going to disturb that peace. If she was honest, Ellie couldn't wait. Ever since V had told her what he was planning, she had been looking forward to this day. Now it was here, she could hardly believe it. Looking at her appearance in the full length mirror, she smiled softly. She looked so much different. Here face was almost white, her eyes and lips lined in black. She had also opted for black contact lenses. Her hair was covered with a short jet black wig, cut into a bob and fastened in place with grips. She picked up her hooded cape, the one she had stolen right from under the noses of several Fingermen, much to V's amusement, and swung it over her shoulders. Flicking the hood up over the wig, she twirled. Yes, she was ready.

Ellie peeked out of her room. The dressing room light was on, indicating that V was still getting ready. _'And men say that women take their time getting ready!'_ from the room, she heard the distinctive voice of the so called 'Voice of London', Lewis Prothero. He was pouring out his usual drabble about those who are different. Shaking heard a little, she crept up to the room, just in time to see V swing his own cloak around his shoulder. She whistled, taking him by surprise.

He turned to her as she leant against the door frame. She looked a picture.

"My dear Ellie, I hardly recognise you." Ellie smiled, coming further into the light. She twirled in front of him, as she usually did. He chuckled, bowing slightly when she stopped. She was ready and waiting, brimming with excitement. V flicked his cloak over his shoulder with a hand, offering her his arm.

"Dear Mime, shall we?" She curtsied gracefully, accepting the invitation. Together, they left the safety of the Gallery, ready to give the biggest performance of their lives.

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The mist hung heavier in the air as the vigilante and his accomplice stalked the streets. Above the silence, the curfew was being called into the night air. It was almost completely silent other than that and the clack of their boots on the pavement. V looked to her and beckoned for her to split from him. Mime nodded, taking off down an alley near her. They would make faster time if they weren't together. Besides, this way they could take out more Fingermen near their set than if they were together. Speaking of the devil... Mime ducked into the shadows as one rounded the corner, standing stock still until he passed. Silent as a ghost, she crept out behind him, easily matching his steps. A tap on the shoulder and a swift blow to the temple rendered him unconscious. Quick as she could, she dragged him into the dark alley and proceeded on her way.

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V walked with a silent confidence as he stalked down a back alley. He heard something, a commotion. Two men and one woman's voices caught his ears. Her voice suddenly became very desperate and pleading. One of the men said something that made the others laugh. A quote flashed through his mind that summed up the happenings perfectly.

"The multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him".1 He stepped into view, taking the men by surprise. He continued, whipping his blade out from his holder. One of them came towards him, his ID out. "Disdaining fortune with his brandished steel, which smoked with bloody execution..."2 _'Just a little closer. Yes, that's it. Perfect striking range.'_ The blade easily sliced through the leather, the handle making contact with the Fingerman's chest before he had time to react. The others were dispatched just as quickly, though it had been fun to fence with the only Fingerman with a truncheon, even if it was quick. The last sickened him, more than he really should have. He was crawling towards his gun, his trousers around his ankles, whimpering pathetically. V picked up the truncheon, walking quickly towards the man. With more strength than was necessary, he slammed his foot down on the clothing, preventing him from going any further. He ignored the man's cries for mercy as he quoted Shakespeare once again.

"We are oft to blame in this, 'tis too much proved that with devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar o'er the devil himself."3 _'How Shakespeare seemed to have a line for every eventuality,' _he mused.

"W-what does that mean?" V raised the truncheon level with his shoulder; the man's whimpering and crying falling on deaf ears.

"Spare the rod." The Fingerman gave one last whimper as the truncheon descended with a sickening crunch.

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Mime hid in the shadows as she watched four Fingermen ran past. She heard the commotion above the silence. It seemed her guardian was busy. She smiled as the last man ran past, reaching for her whip and catching him on his cheek. His yelp caught their attention. They looked to where she stood; the dark shadow's easily masking her. She grinned devilishly. There was no harm in having a little fun, so long as she was careful to keep track of the time. With an expert flick, she caught the injured Fingerman by the neck, deftly pulling him towards her. She winced as he crashed in the wall behind her, unconscious. Mime stood still as a statue as they looked around, her white face covered by the black hood. One of them had a weapon. She couldn't be sure if they all did, but he was the most threat at this point in time. Scooping a knife out of its holder, she aimed and threw. The man yelped as the steel bit his hand, not deep enough to do too much damage, but enough that it drew blood. The truncheon clattered to the ground. Ah, just as she had suspected, they all carried weapons. Guns. She ducked into a door way as they opened fire, shooting blindly into the gloom. Waited for the click of the pins. Good, they were all out. '_My turn.'_ Her whip flew faster than she thought imaginable. Three guns tossed to the side, three men unarmed, one teenage girl. _'The odds are hardly fair, but never mind.'_ She stepped out of the shadows, finally allowing the men to see their attacker. They looked at each other, dumbfounded. A woman?! They had been disarmed by a woman!? Mime tutted, whipping the ground at their feet, the crack sending them running. She was in half a mind to let them go until she heard one of them on the radio, calling for back up. She sighed, readying herself. The whip caught the man's lips, his shriek piercing the sound. Blood dripped from his bust lip as he turned to her. She recognised the expression. Anger and hate. Her foster father had the same one on his face every time he hurt her. Pushing the thoughts a side, she braced herself. He charged her, his hand reaching into his pocket. He had a knife. She spun around him, her cloak catching him off guard. She didn't want to do this, but he left her with no choice. He was running at her again. She scooped out a knife and, in one fluid motion, brought it forward, letting go. It sailed through the air, plunging into the man's chest. He froze, looking down, all expression gone as he slumped to the floor. Picking up her first knife, she steadily walked over to the downed man. Mime winced, nudging him with her booted foot. She hadn't wanted to kill him. Kneeling next to him, she felt for a pulse. Nothing. She chewed her finger, unable to believe that she had killed someone. She would have to worry about it later. What would V think if he saw her like this? The jeering thoughts returned. _'He'd say you were a coward. Frightened little girl!'_ No, she couldn't think like that. Not right now. She would talk to V about it later. Pulling the knife from his chest, she took to the shadows. Mime ran to their rendezvous point on the chosen rooftop, silently scaling the fire escape. Perching herself on the edge of the building, she waited.

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It had all happened so fast. Evey looked at the masked man walking next to her, the same man who had just saved her. He had invited her along to a performance, apparently he was a musician. _'Bloody funny musician. Where did he learn to do that?!'_ She was startled from her thoughts when he spoke.

"So, what were you doing out at this time of night, Evey?" She couldn't help but notice how he stressed the last syllable of her name.

"Erm...I was...I was visiting my uncle. He's sick." He nodded nonchalantly. Did he believe her? The mask made it very difficult to tell what his expression was. Evey didn't think he did.

"What about you? I mean, apart from this musical performance, what are you doing out? I mean, is there someone with you?"

"What makes you think that there is anyone with me?" His head turned to her. Evey shrugged.

"Well, I heard a crack or something not too far away, and I heard shooting. I hope whoever you are with is alright." _'As do I. Dear Mime, you must be alright.'_ He nodded. Helping her up onto the fire escape, V followed this new stranger up to the roof. There was an exclamation of surprised, spurring his pace further. He couldn't hold back the chuckle as he climbed on to the roof.

"Ah Mime, there you are. Miss Hammond, I would like you to meet my accomplice and dear friend, Mime. Mime, this is Evey." Mime smiled, reaching out her hand for the newcomer to shake. However, she couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge of jealousy as V led the stranger to where they would view the fireworks. Mime stood next to him, between the adults, smirking when Evey stated the obvious.

"I thought you were a musician? I don't see any instruments."

"I'm glad to say that you're powers of observation continue to serve you well." V pulled out a conductor's wand, gesturing to the statue of Justice which stood atop the Old Bailey. Mime fidgeted, excited. She looked to Evey who seemed a little confused. She nudged the older woman, nodding towards the building, rubbing her hands together. She cocked her eyebrows when the music began flowing from the loud speakers below them. Evey looked in surprise as both vigilantes began conducting the music as one.

"How do you do that?!" Mime put her fingers to her lips, shushing her. They gestured to the statue together as it exploded. V laughed as the building exploded from within, red and gold fireworks exploding all around the building. The shock and horror and the woman's face was a little startling, but nevertheless expected. Mime clapped as numerous fireworks formed a V in a circle as the most beautiful finale she had ever seen.

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The night had been better than she had expected; the rush was amazing! She almost forgot about the man she had killed...almost. Guilt ate at her as they led the still shocked young woman home, as promised.

"Here, this is my home." They climbed down the fire escape towards the window, both V and Mime helping her through.

"Miss Hammond, it was a pleasure to meet you this evening. Perhaps our paths shall once again cross. Perhaps sooner than we all expect. Until that day, we bid you a good night." Evey smiled as he pressed the lips of the cold mask to her hand, her shock now diminishing. Mime beamed to her, shaking her hand again with renewed vigour, the sudden pang of jealousy forgotten. She liked this woman. There was something about her that struck true in her heart, something that she could relate to. What it was, she didn't know. She was sure she recognised her from somewhere, but she didn't know. What she did know was that she wanted to meet her again. They climbed the ladder to the roof as Evey closed the curtains, making their way back home. The atmosphere was electric, the sounds of sirens permeating the night. The dust and smoke were only just settling as the rest of the stone and bricks cascaded to the ground. V chuckled and Mime grinned. It had been a very good night, and one worth coming out for. In her mind, Mime played the rhyme V had spoken as Big Ben struck midnight. _'Remember, remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.'_

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Ok, that's chapter 6. I apologise again if it wasn't as good as the other chapters, as I explained before hand. I'm not very good at detailing fight scenes. Also, I wanted to use some of the quotes from the movie to keep it as close as I could, though I purposefully changed some of them for the simple reason that I didn't want to pull the scene straight from the movie. I'm not proud of this chapter, never mind how I tweaked it, it didn't want to change. So, I apologise for it.

Once again, thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read this story. It is greatly appreciated!

Peace!

1 Macbeth Act 1 Scene 2 The Sergeant

2 Macbeth Act 1 Scene 2 The Sergeant

3 Hamlet Act 3, Scene 1 Polonius

All of these quotes also appear in the movie. I don't own them!


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks a lot everyone who has reviewed and read this story so far (yes that means you. No, not the person stood over there). Hope you're all enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

Disclaimer: Only Ellie belongs to me; though she'd much rather stay in the Shadow Gallery. I'm sure V doesn't mind that much.

...........................changes in place

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''changes in time

.......''''''''''''.......changes in both

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

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The night was the biggest thrill of Ellie's young life. No wonder V did this! The excitement was quite addictive! She tossed and turned in her bed. It was past three and she hadn't been able to sleep a wink yet. With a frustrated sigh, she climbed out of bed and left her room. She relished in the feel of the pleasantly cool flagstones under her bare feet as she padded down towards the main area of the Gallery. Ellie knew that V was still busy; preparing the televised speech he would cast through London later on today. The excitement of the day intensified tenfold as she thought of the tremors it would cause. Oh, so much fun! She knew, of course, that this was serious, not meant to be fun. But she was still young; surely she could be let off? She stepped into the quiet lounge area, stopping in front of the Wurlitzer. Hmm, a bit too late to play music or watch a film, but she simply wasn't tired. How could she possibly be expected to sleep when she still had so much energy coursing through her veins?! She could go to the training room and work some of it off there. Then again, maybe not. The sound of a door opening further down the hallway caught her attention. She grinned mischievously. Could she, a lowly young teenage girl, possibly take the phantom-like vigilante V by surprise? She dived behind the door she had walked past and waited, quietening her breathing until not even she could hear it. He had exceptionally acute hearing; the slightest, smallest noise would alert him to her presence. A flash of black through the narrow gap between the door and its frame signalled his approach. She waited for her moment to strike, waiting for him to get passed the door, grinning the whole time. She readied herself, ready to leapt out when...

"I know you're there, Ellie." He smiled behind the mask. Ellie stepped out from round the door, playfully pouting. He turned to her, cocking his head to the side. Ellie snapped her fingers and acted utterly surprised at being caught, although she was very dramatic about it. V chuckled, watching her movements. She turned back to him and smiled, though her eyes were questioning.

"You're wondering how it was that I knew you were there." It was more of a statement than a question. Ellie nodded. "Well, my dear, if you will use the same hiding places all of the time, I will know where you are." She sighed. It was true; she did use the more obvious hiding places, whether it be behind the door, in a closet or even, on occasion, behind the sofa. She was very good at hiding, he would give her that. If it had been anyone else, her breathing wouldn't be heard. She could stand stock still at any moment, having the appearance of a statue. However, V was not anyone. V could hear even the smallest breath; V could see the slightest bit of movement. His senses had been heightened, albeit unnaturally so, and they served their purpose well. With a chuckle, he placed a hand on her shoulder, leading her to the sofa.

"Now, my dearest, what has you up at this ungodly hour?" He tilted his mask in concern. "Are you still upset?" Ellie had seen him when they got back after he noticed that something was wrong. She had told him about what she had done, about how she had killed a Fingerman. It wasn't the fact that she had killed a Fingerman that had upset her: Fingerman or not, he was still a human being. There had been tears, less than he had expected, but still tears. He had told her that she'd done the right thing, especially when she mentioned the fact that he had charged her with his own knife. What had happened was merely an act of self defence, even if it was a little more violent than that. She had nodded, understood what he had been telling her. He'd pulled her into a strong, comforting embrace as she cried, letting her relieve it from her system. In the present, V was waiting for her response, greatly relieved when she motioned that she was a little, though the gap was getting smaller until her index finger met her thumb. He caught sight of her eyes, those shining light blue orbs that were just so emotive and so innocent. They were bright and vibrant, gleaming with excitement and youthful energy. Ellie pointed to him and then to herself, before throwing her arms in the air in one huge exaggerated circle. Ah, yes, that would explain it. She was still on a high from the night's event. He chuckled again, placing his hand comfortingly on the back of her head. She leaned into his touch, almost instantly relaxing. Ellie shifted up closer to him, laying her head over his heart, listening to the steady beat of it, her hand resting on his chest as she curled around him. She suddenly felt very tired. V looked down at the youngster, his arm hovering above her, uncertain of what to do. After four years, he'd have thought that this would be easy for him to deal with. He bit his lip, completely unsure. He wasn't exactly uncomfortable, per se, just at a loss. His unspoken query was answered when a slim, feminine hand grasped his leather clad one and gently pulled it down around her. The moment it came to rest upon her, it just felt...right. He smiled tenderly as he stroked her arm, her shoulder, her cheek, her hair. It still surprised him immensely that she was so relaxed around him. She snuggled deeper into him, basking in his warmth. With a contented sigh, she relaxed fully and began falling asleep. He listened to the gentle sound of her breathing, looking at the hand that was brushing her light blonde hair out of her eyes. That was the same hand that had brought a truncheon down on a whimpering Fingerman just this night. These hands that she seemed to adore so much wielded knives, created explosives, and had killed without mercy. And yet, here was this young, utterly adorable little creature that had taken that dark and dangerous beast within him and tamed it. The scenario brought to mind a phrase he had heard: 'And lo, the beast looked upon a face of beauty, and beauty stayed its hand'1. _'How very true'_. Ellie's breathing had deepened and her hand slipped down his chest a little. He smiled lovingly behind the ever-grinning facade of Fawkes, finding that he simply didn't have the heart to wake her, not when she was so comfortable. And he couldn't move without risking waking her. He laughed to himself. Here he was, a dark and dangerous vigilante, pinned by a sleeping teenage girl. "Well, it appears that I am remaining where I am for the night." He stroked Ellie's soft tresses one last time, before he himself gave into sleep.

"Pleasant dreams, my dearest Ellie. Pleasant dreams."

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Ellie woke with a start. She had been dreaming again. They were happening less frequently, but when they did they were so vivid that she almost believed them to be true. She looked around. Her head was resting on a pillow, her body covered with one of V's cloaks. Other than that, she hadn't been moved from the sofa. But V wasn't there. She didn't mind, it didn't bother her. She knew she was safe here in his underground home. Sitting up, she stretched luxuriously, feeling quite awake, reenergised even. Folding the cloak carefully, she placed it on the back of last night's bed, standing and brushing down her pyjamas. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Ten?! Ten o'clock in the morning? She really must have been tired!

"Ah, bonjour mademoiselle." Ellie turned to the masked man standing behind her, beaming. "I didn't want to wake you. You were quite happy where you were. There were a few things I had to sort out." _'Like the copies of my own attire for any hostages.'_ Ellie nodded. She knew what was happening today. V was broadcasting his message to London, rallying the troops so to speak. There wasn't really much that she could do today. V could handle it himself, and she would only get in the way. Ellie had opted to wait in the Shadow Gallery and watch the happenings as they were broadcasted. V seemed to appreciate this.

"I believe I have a few hours before I make my appearance. If you would be so kind as to help me with the finishing touches...?" Ellie lit up. V smirked. If ever there was an opportunity for her to help, she would do so. He beckoned her to follow him, leading her to his, as she had playfully labelled it, 'Office of Demolition'. Once inside, he showed her the explosives he had created. She nodded as he explained to her what he wanted her to do, determination in her eyes. Watching what he did with intent, she copied him, strapping the explosives together and fixing them to a belt. Between the two of them, the work was finished faster.

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The two stood in the kitchen, Ellie drying what V washed. She liked this; simple things that made her feel part of something. They were silent, but comfortably so. It was the type of silence that didn't need to be broken with speech. She listened to him humming along with the music from the Wurlitzer. She loved his voice; whether he was talking, humming or even, occasionally, singing. It always made her happy, always made her relaxed. She did wish that she could join in, though. It was moments like this when she willed her voice to work. The only thing was, whenever she got close to speaking, the image of her foster father kneeling over her while touching her tongue with the cold, deadly blade of a knife instantly clamped her vocals shut. Her fear of him always got the best of her, always froze her tongue. It wasn't the fact that he could kill her, that didn't scare her. She'd never truly feared death. Even Before, her parents had taught her that death was natural, after Ellie's grandfather had passed away. It was upsetting, it was scary, but there was no real reason to fear it. _'Fearing for your life is not the same as fearing death'_. Death happened to everyone eventually. It was the next big adventure after life.

No, if he ever got his hands on her again, it wouldn't be death that she would fear. It was living that scared her. Living in whatever prison he could construct, living with the pain and the suffering and the violation he would no doubt cause her. Living in silent fear. She hated her silence, and so constructed her own persona, one that was loud even though she couldn't speak, one that could be heard even though her voice may never be used again. Mime was Ellie's voice. Mime was Ellie's freedom. Mime was whoever she wanted to be; anyone, everyone and no one at the same time. Most of all, Mime was free: free to live as she wished, free to make her own choices, free to just be...free. She smiled at the ramblings of her own mind as she listened to the melodic sound of V's voice. Ellie found herself wondering if he was the same, if the persona of 'V' had been constructed for much the same reason. She supposed so. After all, when had she ever seen V scared, or suffering, or trapped? V was the unknown hero of the nation, the figurehead of a Revolution he had yet to fully begin, the champion of Freedom. Ellie was constantly in awe of his every ambition, of his goals and the way he pursued them. She had yet to see the Man behind the Mask, the Brain behind the Idea. And yet, she felt that she didn't want to. She didn't want to intrude on his privacy. Yes, she was curious as to what he actually looked like. And yes, she wished she knew certain other things about him. But then, upon thought, what had she really told him? She had told him about that fateful night when the government had stolen away her family. She had told him tiny things about how she had been placed in the JRP, and then fostered. But she stopped there. She wouldn't tell him about her past, refused tell him what she had been through. He knew what he needed to know. He knew her name, her age, the date of her birthday, her likes and dislikes. But other than that, there was nothing. Neither one truly knew the other. And yet they did. In so many, unspoken ways, they knew each other as intimately as if they had known each other longer than they really had. Four years. Had it really only been four years? It felt like a lifetime to Ellie; a lifetime of happiness and belonging; a lifetime of being part of something that she loved; a lifetime of depending on another and yet being independent enough to stand on her own. Yes, Ellie was happy here. Happy with this man. Not just any man, but her hero, her guardian, her father and her friend. She sighed, placing the plate back into the cupboard.

"Is everything alright Ellie?" She turned and nodded. V was leaning against the sink, watching her. He seemed concerned. She cocked her head, her eyes questioning as to why he had asked. "You just seemed rather far away. Is something troubling you?" Again, Ellie shook her head. "Are you sure?" She nodded. She suddenly felt that the gap between them, however small, was simply too big, narrowing it and wrapping her arms around him. V seemed a little surprised at her actions, but responded nonetheless. Ellie sighed happily, completely content. V had become her father, the one she needed, and she hoped to never let him go. She turned her head and gave the cool metal-reinforced porcelain a quick peck before pulling away. V chuckled.

"And what, may I ask, brought that on?" The teenager shrugged, the reason complete lost. Did simply showing affection really need a reason? He supposed not. What ever reason Ellie had would more than suffice for him.

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It was time to go. It was early afternoon, almost time for V to take centre stage, his performance already set to be played. Ellie quickly hugged him goodbye, curtsying as he bowed out of the Gallery, placing the hat on his head and making sure that his cloak was wrapped around his deadly cargo. Ellie watched out of the door as he disappeared down the tunnels, excitement taking over her body. She was in half a mind to follow him, but no. She'd said that she would stay behind for this. She would only get in the way and be more of a hindrance than a help. No, she would wait for his speech to be broadcast through the TV. She hadn't heard it yet. Ellie had heard variations of it, but not the finished article. She felt like she was waiting for a movie to start, one she was eager to see, one she knew wouldn't disappoint. She truly couldn't wait!

Ellie was sitting, fidgeting in front of the TV, smiling as she thought of how shocked the government would be to see V's face suddenly appear on the television. She would laugh if she could. The TV suddenly went blank. Ellie leaned forward in eager anticipation. And then it started. The broadcast. The speech. She listened as she knew London would be listening. She watched as London was watching. Only, she understood more than London understood. She knew more than they knew. And she was glad of it. And then there it was! The call to London to join with him on the Fifth! She felt the swell of pride as the speech ended, the screen turning black with only V's motif decorating the centre. no one would could perform a speech quite like V! She felt like cheering and dancing for joy! The dancing she did, almost running to the Wurlitzer and finding the liveliest song she could, dancing to it. And then the news came on. She leaned on the back of the sofa, watching with a smile as the newscaster reported the Government's version. Her smile faded, however, as she read the captions that accompanied it. _"Terrorist gunned down"_ one read. She shook her head in disbelief as she watched the scene in front of her. No, she didn't believe it. That wasn't V. V wouldn't run towards them in clear view. V wouldn't make himself so much of a target. He would keep to the smoke; take them out one by one in silence. No, that wasn't V. Yet, she still felt the bitter twang of shock and distress as the man lay dead on the floor. What if it was? She would be alone! _'No, no, no, calm down. It's not him, it's not him, IT'S NOT HIM!'_ She gripped her head, squeezing her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath to calm her nerves. She switched the offending programme off, pacing the floor. She couldn't stop the few worried tears falling down her cheeks. Her pace quickened as time passed, each second taking an hour to tick by. What was taking him so long? He should be here by now! Where was he? Where was V? Her mind ticked over what could have happened, refusing to believe what she saw on the television. The government made things up, fabricating events to suit their twisted purpose. It was more than likely that they had done the same thing here, to try and keep London under their control. They couldn't have the Londoners believing that this terrorist would keep his word. Absolutely not! Perish the thought! So what was taking so long?

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Ellie almost jumped out of her skin as the heavy wooden door to the Gallery opened. She almost pounced upon the man as he came through. She almost did a lot of things, until she saw what he was carrying. Or should that be WHO he was carrying. She ran up to him.

"My apologies, my dear. I didn't mean to take so long. I was rather...held up." He cocked his head to the unconscious woman he held in his arms. Ellie nodded, recognising her immediately. She beckoned for him to follow her, all fear and worry forgotten. She pushed the door to her room open, pulling the covers back from her bed.

"Are you sure?" Ellie nodded, motioning for him to lay the woman on her bed. He smiled and did so, watching as Ellie gently covered the woman, hissing at the bruise that graced her forehead. She gently touched the cut, now dried, in the middle of the forming lump. It was the shape of a 'v', though on its side and more right-angled. She stood from the bed, leaving the door slightly ajar, walking next to V. She glanced up at him and waited until they stopped before throwing herself into his arms, catching him completely by surprise.

"Ellie!" he cried as he almost fell backwards, fighting every urge to defend himself from the unexpected attack. Steadying himself, he held the girl close. "I guess you saw that news report." Ellie nodded. She looked at him. No tears. Not this time. But there had been. He stroked her cheek gently. He knew that it would have worried her; even if she didn't believe it. The fact that she wasn't there and that she was left more or less in the dark wouldn't have helped matters.

"Are you alright?" She nodded, finally letting him go. She smiled up at him, stroking the cheek of the mask. He leaned into it a little. She made a move that would have been accompanied by a giggle. To Ellie, he looked so cute when he did that. Her smile widened, even as she broke the contact. She glanced back down the corridor. V followed her gaze.

"I couldn't leave her there. Not after she helped me." He looked back at the teenager. "I wouldn't have been coming home if it wasn't for Miss Hammond. I must say that I hadn't expected London's Finest to be quite so Johnny-on-the-spot. Though, they were apparently there before I was." Ellie shook her head, smiling. After four years of it just being the two of them, there was now another guest. But, as V explained, Evey Hammond would not be allowed to leave. Ellie understood why. They had met her once, and although Ellie felt she could be trusted, V did not. At least, not yet. Yes, Ellie understood. But would Evey? That was something they were going to find out.

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Wow, this is a pretty long chapter. I enjoyed writing this one, more than the last. I thought I'd take the opportunity to look deeper into how Ellie sees V, and how she sees her own...well, I suppose alter ego is the word I'd use.

So, Evey's in the Gallery. What is it going to be like with three? How will she cope with being the prisoner of two vigilantes? Well, we'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out. Constructive criticism is always welcome. No flames. Thanks!

1 An Arabian Proverb, also used in Peter Jackson's King Kong.


	8. Chapter 8

So, Evey's in the Gallery. How will that turn out? Well, I guess we'll find out. Thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing! It's great to see so many people are enjoying it!

Disclaimer: (melancholic sigh) I wish. Still, at least Ellie's mine. And she exists in the Gallery. That's close enough... for now.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''changes in time

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

**Dreaming**

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It felt strange, knowing that there was someone else in the Gallery besides themselves. What had really possessed him to bring the young woman back? V couldn't stop wondering this as he silently read. Ellie was curled up on the chaise longue with her favourite book 'The Scarlet Pimpernel'. She seemed to be completely taken in by it. Then again, she always was. He glanced over at her and smiled behind his mask. She hadn't moved for about an hour, and all he heard was the gentle rustle of a page slowly turning. He glanced down the hall that led to the bedrooms. How long had it been since he had checked on their new guest? Not even an hour ago. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to check on her again, just to make sure. With a head injury you never could tell. He looked back at Ellie. She still hadn't moved from her spot.

"I'm going to check on our guest." She simply nodded. He chuckled, rising from his seat. He walked casually down the hallway, stopping at the door to Ellie's room. There was the sound of movement coming from within. Pushing the door open, he cautiously stepped inside, being careful not to scare her. Well, he did try. Evey turned to him, startled.

"Oh! You scared me."

"My apologies. How are you feeling?"

"Headache, really bad headache." She rested her hand over the steadily growing lump on her forehead. V delicately brushed her curls of her face, raising her hand and getting a good look at the injury. It was going to be quite an impressive bump.

"It isn't too bad, thankfully. Though you really should have something cool on it. The only thing I have to offer, however, is a towel and cold water." Evey nodded, instantly regretting the action. She groaned, cupping her throbbing head again. V waited for her to regain her composure.

"May I ask you something?" She squinted up at him. "What were you doing in the building after I triggered the alarm system?" She seemed a little confused as she tried to think.

"Oh, right, yes! Now I'm with you. Erm, there were two men looking for me. I think they were police."

"I see. So they are looking for you." There was a pause as V mulled over what had been said. "Do you require anything, Evey?"

"Hm? Oh, no thank you. I think I'm going to go back to sleep for a while, if that's ok." V nodded.

"Very well. I shall leave you to your slumber." He bowed slightly to her before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

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Ellie was sitting, listening to Julie London playing on the Wurlitzer from the opposite end of the Gallery when she detected movement. She quickly leapt from the chaise longue, silently running to get V. Evey had come round and was walking about. The teenager stepped into his study, where he was sat reading. He turned his head slightly, acknowledging her presence.

"Yes Ellie? What can I do for you?" Ellie stepped in front of him, pointing out of the door. V cocked his head. "Our guest is awake?" She nodded. "Very well. Thank you, my dear, for letting me know." Ellie smiled. V was instantly on his feet, and together they approached the heart of the Gallery. Sure enough there she was, standing over the Wurlitzer. Ellie grinned, reminded of her first day in the Gallery. She had been attracted to the jukebox, too. She hung back a little while V stepped forward, crossing his hands in front of him. He was also reminded of that first morning. Ellie had been much the same as Evey was now. The leather of his boots creaked a little as he shifted his weight. Evey turned, starting.

"Oh, you scared me!" V held back the chuckle. That was how she'd greeted him earlier.

"My apologies. Are you feeling alright?" Ellie stepped forwards, feeling a little more secure, child like curiosity taking over.

"Yes thank you. Oh, hello. I didn't see you there." Ellie waved and smiled. V looked to her and then back to Evey.

"Ah, yes. You may not recognise her while she is, how shall we say, out of character. Allow me introduce you to Mime."

"Mime? The woman from the rooftop?" Ellie nodded. "I didn't recognise you without your make up. Or your wig." Ellie shrugged. Evey turned back to the man who had saved her.

"What is this place?" She looked around.

"It's our humble abode. I... well, we, call it the Shadow Gallery." Ellie nodded once in confirmation.

"It's beautiful." Evey looked around again. "Where did you get all of this?" V walked around in front of the piano.

"Oh, here and there, didn't we?" Ellie nodded. "Much of it from the Ministry of Objectionable Materials."

"You mean, you stole it?" They both turned around, a little taken aback by the accusation.

"Oh heavens no! You can't steal from the censor. We merely...reclaimed them."

"But...it doesn't belong to you, so you must have stolen it." V shook his head.

"No. Stealing implies ownership. They don't belong to the censor, either. You can't steal what doesn't belong to anyone." Evey nodded, finally understanding the argument. She looked back at the two vigilantes, her gaze falling on the teenager. There was something familiar about her, and not just from last night. Something she couldn't quite place. She would think of it later. Her memory came back to her. What had she done? She'd attacked a police man!

"Why did I do that?"

"Do what my dear?"

"Mace that police man. Why the bloody hell did I do that?"

"You did only what you thought was right." Ellie nodded, smiling. She frowned a little as the woman still seemed a little confused. No, nervous.

"No, no, I shouldn't have done that. I wasn't thinking. I must have been out of my mind." Ellie looked at the man and then back at the woman.

"Is that what you really think? Or is it merely what they want you to think?" Evey seemed to be thinking this over.

"I think I should go." They watched as she started to walk away. Ellie gulped a little. How was this going to go? Not well, she reckoned.

"May I ask where?" V asked without looking around. Evey turned to them both.

"Home. I've got to go home!"

"Earlier, you told me that they were looking for you. If they know where you work, then they certainly know where you live." V turned to face her finally.

"Well, I have friends. I'll stay with them." V shook his head, stepping forward. Ellie watched him, staying back.

"I'm sorry, Evey, but I'm afraid that won't work either. You are safe here. You have to understand that I'm doing this to protect you...and us." He nodded to Ellie.

"Well, I won't tell anyone. I'm the last person who would go to the authorities. Besides, I don't even know where we are! You can trust me, both of you know that." Ellie knew that, but the teenager knew that V wasn't going to take any chances.

"I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk. Especially when I know that more than my life may be threatened." Evey frowned, thinking over what he was implying.

"What are you saying? I have to stay here?"

"I'm afraid so. Just until we're done."

"You mean after the Fifth?" He nodded. "But that's a year from now." She paused as realisation dawned on her. "I have to stay here for a year!?"

"I'm sorry Evey. I couldn't leave you there, not after what you did. You do understand what would have happened if I had left you there, don't you?" Evey nodded slowly.

"But... my work, my home...I have to stay here for a year!?"

"Sorry, Evey. But I didn't know what else to do." Ellie stepped forwards, worried about the woman's reaction.

"You should've just left me alone!" With that, she ran back down the hall, slamming the bedroom door. V sighed. That hadn't gone quite as he had expected. He looked at the teenager as she laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She offered him small smile, looking back to the room. Well, what did he really expect her to do? Jump for joy at the prospect of being their houseguest? Well, in all actuality, he had just told her that they were going to keep her prisoner. She'd taken it rather well, in all fairness.

"Well, Ellie. It seems that your room is now in use." The teenager shrugged, sitting on the sofa. She ran her hand over the soft leather. V realised what she'd decided. "Perish the thought! I will not have you sleep on the sofa, Ellie. We will sort another room for you." Ellie shrugged again. She really didn't mind. After all, she'd slept on worse. She smiled softly to the masked man. V sighed again, shaking his head. This young lady really was stubborn when she wanted to be.

"I don't like this idea, Ellie. I will not have you sleeping on the sofa. It isn't all that comfortable after all, and terrible for your posture." She smiled, sitting up straight. He chuckled. Her mind was made up, and even he wouldn't be able to change it. _'She truly is like me in so many ways.'_ He would have to admit defeat, at least for tonight.

"Very well, Ellie. But only for tonight. I know you slept there last night also, but I don't want you to make a habit of it. Tomorrow, we will sort out another room for you. Understood?" Ellie stood to attention and saluted, a cheeky grin on her face. He couldn't help but laugh. "Very well, it is decided." He glanced back down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. "I just hope that she will come to understand." Ellie nodded. Well, tomorrow is another day.

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V was right; it wasn't the most comfortable of places to sleep. Ellie snuggled under the blanket he had found for her, trying to relax. That was the other problem: she wasn't tired. Her mind was wandering, keeping her awake. She hated when this happened. Always when something new occurred in her life. It happened when her parents were taken from her. It happened when she spent her first night in the Reclamation Centre. And then it happened when, two months later, she was fostered. Well, sent to Hell, more like. She shivered. The more she thought about it, the less she would sleep. Ellie glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Two in the morning. She wondered absently if Evey was awake. She knew fine well that V would be. But it was likely that he was busy. Getting up, she wandered to what had been her room, pressing her ear to the door. There was no noise, apart from gentle breathing. Well, that answered her question. With a sigh, she went back to her bed on the sofa. She would see her in the morning. Covering herself again, she closed her eyes and finally fell into a fitful sleep.

**She was running, running down the alleys of London. She had to escape, had to flee. Escape from what? She turned a corner. A dead end. She turned back, only to find her way back blocked by a wall. That hadn't been there before. What was happening? There was a laugh from somewhere in the dark. One she recognised. She was panicking, her heart beating so hard and so fast she felt it would explode. She tried to move, but her hands were suddenly tied behind her back. She looked down. She was naked! No! Not again! Please not again! A figure hovered over her, a sick smirk crossing his features. She tried to scream, but could not. She struggled to break free, trying to fight him, but to no avail. Her body simply wouldn't respond. A flash of steel came her way. She tried to move, tried to dodge the cold steel of the knife. It was coming for her; she could feel the wind of it. So close! Then another came. This one was brighter than the first, slicing through the dark. It collided with the first in a deafening clang, sending it hurling into oblivion. The figure disappeared. A hand rested on her bare shoulder and she tried to fight it. Tears ran down her face. And then she heard it. The voice. So calming, so clear, so warm. "Ellie," it said. It was so far away and yet so near. "Ellie." It was getting louder. She clung to it, her bonds gone, letting it lift her towards its source.**

"Ellie! Ellie, dearest, wake up!" She jumped awake, panting, her eyes searching the area fitfully. She wasn't on the sofa anymore; she was on the floor, her body clammy and cold and aching from her fall. She came to her senses as she looked up into the smiling mask of Guy Fawkes. "Are you alright?" She nodded, her hand wiping her forehead, her breathing calming. What had happened?

"You were in the throes of a nightmare, my dear. I heard you thrashing. What was it you saw?" She sat up, leaning against the masked man who was kneeling next to her. She felt something run down her cheeks. Tears. Why was she crying? She could hardly remember the dream. She shook her head. Whatever it was, her mind had already repressed it with so many other unwanted memories. She looked at the clock again. Quarter past two. Only fifteen minutes? She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder again. She felt his arms wrap around her protectively, holding her close, rocking her as he had so many times before when she'd needed the comfort. She snuggled into his embrace, finding she didn't have the energy to do much else. His arm moved, slipping under her knees, the other staying around her shoulders as he lifted her off the floor with very little effort.

"No more sleeping on the sofa, my dear. You're sleeping in a proper bed." She didn't have the energy to argue, allowing him to carry her wherever he would. She only vaguely recognised the corridor as he carried her down to his room. She had never been in his room before, and she took this privilege seriously. It wouldn't happen often, if ever again. He carefully laid her down on the mattress, covering her with his blankets. Ellie wasn't awake enough to take anything in. He stroked her hair comfortingly, before getting up to leave. He had no qualms about sleeping on the sofa. He was stopped, however, when two hands wrapped around his wrist. He glanced back at the girl; her eyes wide open in sheer terror. She didn't want to be alone, not tonight, not after that dream. She couldn't remember it, but she knew it had terrified her. Her eyes were pleading, practically begging him to stay with her.

"Ellie, it is rather indecent. I can't be in the same bed as you." If her eyes could have become any wider, V feared they would. Unshed tears glistened in her light blue eyes. With a sigh, he relented, sitting on top of the blankets. She scooted over to allow him room. He was very uncomfortable with this. Not so much being in the same bed as Ellie, but being in the same bed as another person. He trusted Ellie, trusted her with his life. She knew the boundaries, and she constantly respected them. However, what ever she'd dreamt about had certainly been horrifying. The teenager had had nightmares in the past, of course, but never this severe. He laid himself down stiffly, relaxing slightly when she let go of his wrist. She didn't snuggle up to him, nor did she touch him in anyway, sensing how perturbed he was, even as she slept. All Ellie wanted was to be near him, and she would be damned if she was kicking him out of his own bed. He chuckled lightly, turning onto his side and face her sleeping form. He wondered, as he carefully pushed some of her light blonde hair from her closed eyes, if she would sense him leaving. It was very likely. Ellie wasn't the heaviest sleeper, she had learnt to sense when something was amiss even in the realms of slumber. Last night had been different. She had been utterly exhausted. He relaxed a little more as he watched her sleeping under his covers. She really was a respectful young lady when it came to personal space, never once pushing them. He watched her as he himself slowly drifted off into the realm of sleep.

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I think we'll leave them there, shall we? Until the next chapter, anyway.

Ok, I know that I've used some lines from the movie again, and I'll say now (as I always do) I don't own them. I just needed them for the chapter, to keep it as close as possible. Also, I noticed that in the film when V tells Evey that she has to stay in the Gallery, he says that she'd told him she was being looked for. However, we never actually hear her say this. So, I thought that I would add it into this chapter.

Finally, I wanted to show one of Ellie's dreams, and I thought that this was a good chapter to do so. I also wanted to show a little more of V's paternal side when it comes to Ellie's wellbeing, and I thought that maybe letting her sleep in his bed would be a good way to show it. Hope you all agree. Thanks for reading! You know the drill- no flames, but constructive criticism is welcomed.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm glad you're still enjoying it!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all to do with V for Vendetta, except for the DVD. That's all, I swear!

''''''''''''''''''''''''Changes in time

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

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Ellie woke, not recognising where she was. She looked around, taking in the deep crimson walls, lined with shelves. Each shelf held either books or ornaments, sometimes both. Paintings hung from the walls, only small ones, but they added their own specific charm to the room. The bed was a double, clothed in predominantly black and crimson, the bedclothes made of both cotton and silk. The bed itself was a black metal, the headboard a simple frame. It was all strangely masculine. She rubbed her eyes thinking about how she got here. Oh yes, now she remembered. V had brought her here after her nightmare. Speaking of which, where was V? She'd felt him leave, but really didn't want to wake up. It was so cosy in the bed. Pulling back the crimson and black duvet, she got out, stopping only to make the bed again. It wasn't hers after all. Opening the door, she listened for signs of life. Her former bedroom door was open, and there were voices coming from the kitchen. She smiled, heading towards the voices. V was quoting again. Then again, when wasn't he? Her smile broadened as she approached the kitchen. It was almost like something from her best dream. V was leaning against the counter as Evey sat at the table. Both were talking casually as she entered.

"Ah, good morning my dear. I trust you slept well?" The teenager nodded, waving to the woman sat at their table. Evey laughed lightly and waved back.

"Now, my dear. How about some breakfast?" Ellie nodded enthusiastically. V chuckled, setting about making her favourite. She sat at the table across from Evey, listening as they carried on their conversation.

"I just wish I believed it was possible, that's all." There was silence as Evey's words hung in the air, a silence that carried on a little too long for Ellie's liking. She leaned back in the chair, watching the masked man as he worked. She clapped as he flipped the bread in the pan. Evey smiled as she finished her own.

"So, are you called Mime for any particular reason?" V turned at that precise moment, placing the plate in front of the teenager, knowing from experience what was about to happen.

"I would suggest that you eat first before you get up to your antics." Ellie flopped back into her chair dramatically. She had just been about to show their houseguest why she had adopted the title. She wondered if he sometimes waited for moments like these to do something like this. She tilted her head back to look up at the man behind her, smiling innocently. He chuckled and tickled her exposed throat until she hissed in silent laughter and snapped her head forwards, scrunching up into a tight little ball and squirming as he moved to the side of her neck. Evey smiled at the scene in front of her. Here was the most dangerous man in London, perhaps England, playing happy families with a teenage girl. She certainly would never have believed it if she hadn't seen it. V laughed and ruffled the teen's hair as she tried to swat his hand away.

"Eat up, my dear. Preferably before it goes cold." She saluted playfully, instantly digging in.

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Ellie felt rude entering her former bedroom. It was no longer her space, but there were still items that belonged to her. Her clothes, her costume, her diary. She pushed the door open further, knowing that Evey was in the bathroom. Stepping inside, she picked up the clothing that belonged to her, took down her 'evening wear' from where it was hung and scooped out her diary from its hiding place. She looked around. Her makeup could wait, it wasn't that important. Nodding, she turned, almost dropping it all in shock as she nearly walked into Evey.

"Ellie? Can I help you?" The teenager shook her head, nodding to the items in her arms. Evey looked around, finally realising that this had been the teenager's room.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was your room." Ellie shrugged and smiled. A room was a room to her. It wasn't anything special, certainly nothing to get defensive over as far as she was concerned.

"Do you want any help? I mean, I could move into another if you want this one back." The teenager was truly shocked at the suggestion, somehow managing to keep hold of her items. Perish the thought! She wasn't going to let that happen! Evey was a guest, so it was only fitting that she should stay in the guestroom. She shook her head, frowning at the suggestion.

"Are you sure? I feel awful now, knowing that I've taken over." Ellie tutted, rolling her eyes and shook her head again. She pointed to the woman with her free hand and then motioned around the room. Evey didn't seem to understand. The silent teenager sighed, dropping her belongings on the bed, taking what she'd dubbed as her 'performance stance'. She gestured to the woman to wait while she figured out how best to show what she wanted to say. She snapped her fingers and winked at Evey before pointing to her and then the room. She pointed at everything in the room and then back at Evey.

"Oh. You want me to keep the room?" She applauded her, bouncing. Evey laughed.

"Ok, ok, because I can't think of a way to argue the way you can, I'll let it slide." Ellie seemed playfully smug, folding her arms and crossing her legs, appearing to lean against an invisible wall. "How do you do that?" She could swear that there was something there. Ellie smiled in mischief, tapping the side of her nose and changing position to lean against a 'cabinet'. Well, she had asked why the teen was called Mime. Ellie heard a door open further down the hall. She smiled, scooping her things up and winked at her. V had been busy sorting out another room for the teenager, as he wouldn't have her sleeping on the couch and she wouldn't see him kicked out of his own room. _'Both as stubborn as each other'_ Evey surmised. She wondered if they were actually related. They were certainly close enough to be mistaken as father and daughter, and there were some many things about them that were so very alike. She would wait to ask her captor, sorry, _host_, about the teenager.

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It had taken a good amount of time to move the items around in the room and find new homes for them. Trunks and boxes had been removed and placed in other rooms for sorting later. Loose items had been placed on shelves (ones that could fit, anyway) or stashed away. Ellie helped where she could, but some items were a lot heavier than they appeared to be. Between them, they had cleared a space big enough to fit a bed. That had taken the longest time- finding a frame and a mattress. She was constantly grinning at the situation when they managed to find one. Here was V, a dangerous, deadly vigilante with a secret lair that no one but they knew about, setting up a bed he had acquired almost as if he had been expecting visitors. When she wasn't helping, she was getting to know their guest. With his permission, she had told Evey her name. In turn, Evey had told her a bit about herself: her job in the BTN, a bit about her life, her family and why she hated the government. Ellie had been very surprised when she told her she had been in the JRP. That was where she'd recognised her! Granted, she had met her briefly, but still, they had met!

"There really is no such thing as coincidence, is there?" Evey joked. Ellie had smiled, wishing once again that she could laugh. Ellie told her a little less than she had told V. Evey knew the basics, things she needed to know about the teenager. Other than that, she didn't know about how her foster father was a Fingerman, she didn't know about what had happened to her. Ellie felt that no one really needed to know that. V knew what had happened to her because of her injuries that night, but he didn't know how frequent they were. If she had been given the chance, he wouldn't know at all. He knew about her foster father, but Ellie had made him promise not to do anything about it. At least not yet. By the end of the day, Ellie's room was ready. She smiled in gratitude as she looked around. It wasn't as big as the one Evey occupied, but it was cosy. And she was close to both V and Evey.

"I'm afraid this will have to suffice." Ellie nodded appreciatively, before turning and doing the only thing she could to show her thanks. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she hugged him. Chuckling, he reciprocated the emotion.

"You're welcome. Now, my lady, I shall leave you to settle. And before you even think about jumping on the bed, may I inform you that it isn't as strong as the one in the guestroom, and I don't have anymore lying around." Ellie nodded. She had gotten quite used to what she claimed was V's 'psychic ability' to read what she was about to do. She knew well that it was only because of the fact that he had come to understand every little movement of her body, comprehending the changing flickers in her eyes, everything. He'd had to in order to understand her needs. He ruffled her hair again. She frowned, smoothing it down again and sticking her tongue out at him.

"Keep doing that and you'll end up losing it." She snapped it back in, bright blue eyes glowing in deep set fear. She clasped her hand over her mouth as if to stop anyone getting in. Behind his mask, V frowned. What had scared her? It was only a joke. Unless...no. Surely no one alive could be _that _cruel.

"Ellie?" The sudden onset of terror seemed to have passed as her eyes became their normal bright blue once again. She smiled sheepishly, though he did notice how hard she'd clamped her jaw, making the smile look fake. She winked, sitting on the bed and bouncing ever so slightly. She beamed in childlike joy. She may be fourteen, but her childhood had been cruelly torn away. Besides, V had become quite used to her childish nature. He wouldn't change it for the world. He'd realised a while ago how much he'd come to love her. The little things she did, the simple things that made her smile, everything about her brightened up the otherwise lonely Shadow Gallery. Yes, he loved her like she was his own. And he would be damned if he was going to change anything about her. Bowing out of the room, he left her to sort herself out. He found Evey stood in the doorway of what was now her room. She smiled softly.

"Hello Evey. I trust everything is comfortable enough for you?"

"Yes, thank you V. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you." He stopped and turned to her.

"Oh? May I ask what about?" Evey gestured that they keep walking, so they did.

"I was just going to ask about Ellie." She sensed the atmosphere suddenly change, becoming tense.

"What about Ellie?" The tone of his voice warned her to tread carefully. Apparently it was a more delicate subject than she had first thought.

"Well, I was just going to ask how you know her, that's all. I was wondering if you were related." The tension lessened.

"I see. What makes you think that we are related?" His walk became casual again as he relaxed.

"Well, just little things really. You both seem very alike, in your actions I mean. That's all." V laughed.

"Yes, I suppose we are in a way. I believe we have adapted to each other, picked up the others behaviour. And no, we are not related." Evey nodded, thankful that the tension between them had lessened. He was clearly very defensive of the teenager. _'Very much like a father.' _

"So...if you're not related, how did you meet? By chance?"

"Chance is for gamblers and I am not a gambling man. As I'm sure you have worked out, I'm not a great believer of coincidence either." He sighed. Whatever Ellie wanted Evey to know, she would tell her by herself. However, it wouldn't hurt to tell her the basics, just to relieve her inquisitive mind.

"I met her one night about four years ago. She was alone, homeless, and being accosted by Fingermen."

"So you saved her and brought her here?" He nodded.

"What about her family? Wouldn't they be worried?"

"As I said, she was homeless. If Ellie wants to tell you anything else, it is at her discretion. Please, don't go prying. It may be more sensitive than you imagine." Evey nodded in understanding. At least it answered her question, but it had awakened so many others. What had happened? She had met her in the JRP so she assumed her parents had been taken away from her, much like her own. That didn't mean that she didn't have any other family. She sighed, the silence descending on them. She leapt out of her skin with a cry when two hands caught her waist. V spun around only to find Ellie clutching her sides in silent laughter.

"Ellie!! You scared the living daylights out of me!" Evey's outburst simply spurred her into more laughter. V couldn't help but laugh along. Even he hadn't heard her approach, an occurrence that was extremely rare. She really was like a ghost when she wanted to be.

"Oh yes, you just both laugh, I'm fine. I'm not having a heart attack or anything." Ellie smiled, though she tried to look remorseful. Stretching out her arms, she encompassed her in a hug, pouting playfully. Evey sighed, returning it now that her heart had stopped trying to leap out of her chest.

"How do you deal with her when she does things like this?" she asked, looking to the vigilante. Ellie looked to him, pulling away and almost immediately looking for an exit. He chuckled darkly.

"Very simple, my dear Evey. Like this." Ellie ran into the lounge as he stepped forward, gracefully vaulting the chair and making sure to keep it between herself and the vigilante. Oh, she knew what was coming to her, but that didn't mean she couldn't try to prolong it. She tilted her head mockingly, knowing full well that he wasn't trying. If he was, she'd have been caught long before now. She tried her luck and ran past the couch. Apparently, Lady Luck wasn't on her side this time. Strong arms wrapped around her pinning her to his body as she struggled. His fingers found her sides and she struggled harder, wishing even more that she could laugh or scream or make any sort of sound at all, just to find some form of a relief as his fingers danced across her sides. He relented, allowing her to make her escape. He laughed as he watched her run to her new room.

"That, Evey is how you deal with a mischievous Mime."

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Took a while, but got there in the end. This chapter was a little harder to write than the others, mainly because I had many possibilities of Evey's first day in the Shadow Gallery. Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

You know the score; I don't mind Constructive Criticism because it keeps me up to speed and on my toes. I don't like flames. They're just mean.

Freedom! Forever!


	10. Chapter 10

Hi guys! Sorry it's been so long! I've kinda been away from the computer for a while.

I'm so glad that so many people a reading this story! Thanks for your support guys!

Disclaimer: If only!

"Talking"

...................change in place

'''''''''''''''''''change in time

'''''......'''''''change in both

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Ellie had gotten quite used to having Evey around during the first week. She really liked her. To Ellie, she was the big sister the teenager had never had. She had become her best friend, someone she could relate to, someone she could rely on to be there for her when she couldn't talk to V, whether it was because he wasn't around or it was something she felt embarrassed about telling him, something she could only tell another female. V seemed to enjoy having the older woman around, too. It was different, and something that he was still getting used to. Ellie had been different; when he had taken her in, she was a young girl who needed someone to depend on in life. Evey was a young woman of, he would estimate, between twenty and twenty five. She already had a life, she was already independent, and she didn't need to rely on him all that much. Having another adult around was, in all honesty, rather weird. But he was pleased with how well Ellie was getting on with their new guest. She helped her to feel at home, almost, in the Shadow Gallery, helped to lessen the feeling of being a prisoner. Well, he hoped. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. Tonight, he had other plans, ones that he would never allow Ellie to be a part of. Tonight, his vendetta would be put into action. There was just one little thing he needed first.

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Their host had gone out for the evening. Ellie had wanted to go along, but a few soft words from her adoptive father had dissuaded her. She was sat reading when Evey came into the lounge area, a rather puzzled look on her face. Looking up, she cocked her head to the side, her eyes questioning.

"Elle? You haven't seen my ID, have you? I thought I'd left it in my bag, but I can't seem to find it." The blonde haired teenager shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. Marking her page, she sprang from the couch. She smiled to the older woman, pointing between them and pretended to search in a rather exaggerated way. Evey smiled. She'd gotten used to the girl's miming, finally beginning to understand what each gesture meant.

"Thanks Elle, I'd appreciate it."

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Two hours past and still there was no sign of the card anywhere. Evey stood in the middle of her room, eyebrows furrowed and hands on hips. They had practically turned the area inside out, being careful with the antiques and the books. She turned to the fourteen year old.

"Ellie? You haven't hidden it have you?"The teenager stood aghast, taken aback by the question. Why would she? "Sorry, Elle, I don't mean to offend you or anything, but I know what you're like when you play one of your jokes. Please tell me if you've hidden it?" Ellie shook her head, throwing her hands in the air before placing her right hand over her heart in a solemn promise. "Ok. Sorry sweetie." Ellie smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the same time. She beckoned the woman to follow her. Taking her mind of the missing ID would do her good. A movie would help.

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V silently swept through the streets of London, stepping so lightly that even the clack of his boots wasn't heard. It wouldn't be long before the body of the former commander was found by the authorities. He easily slipped into the shadows as Fingermen rounded the corner. They didn't even look in his direction. He could quite easily kill them now and stop them from searching the area. But no. Why waste the moment? No, tonight Prothero would be enough. Only if any tried to stop him would he kill again. He absently wondered what the girls were up to. Ellie would probably be in bed now. It was rather late after all. Evey, he wasn't sure about. He didn't know Evey, something he wished to remedy. There was something about the young woman that he found quite pleasant, though he really didn't know what it was. He then thought back to the 'meeting' he had just left. It went rather well, he thought. Once the realisation had hit the former commander of who the masked terrorist was, their little chat had almost come to its end. He remembered the pain that had crossed Prothero's face after he had forcibly injected his little concoction into him. The last of his death throes had not been pleasant, but at least the so-called 'Voice of London' had finally known what pain was. He had come to know a pain similar to the one he had bestowed on the masses that had been killed, all in the name of 'science'. V would have liked to have punished him further, so that the commander knew how the inmates had really felt. But no, there was no point. He had been given a taste of his own medicine, and now he would receive his punishment for all eternity. Shrugging off the thoughts, he focused on getting back home. It wouldn't do to have his mind wandering now and risk getting caught. He listened carefully before making his move. No sound. Good. He flitted across to a fire escape and ascended to the roof. It was far quicker than travelling the streets below. That, and the cool autumn breeze could serve its purpose of brushing away his dark thoughts before he returned to the Gallery. He would be damned if Ellie, or even Evey, was still awake and he re-entered his home whilst his dark, murky thoughts plagued his mind. After all, V had sworn to protect his little Ellie from the darker side of his personality, and he would do so at any cost.

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The Gallery was silent as he entered. His lightening mood softened further at the sight that lay before him. The TV was on, the end titles of a film playing. He laughed quietly as he stepped closer to the couch, discarding his hat and cloak and laying them on the chaise longue. Evey's head lay slightly to the left, some of her soft silk-like curls cascading over her throat. Her chest rose and fell steadily in sleep. Next to her, Ellie lay curled up on the sofa, her leg dangling over the side, her head resting on the older woman's lap, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly. Her pyjamas were slightly wrinkled from the way she was laying. He chuckled softly, kneeling in front of her, getting ready to lift her into his arms. She stirred, her light blue eyes flickering open, her blurry gaze falling on the white smiling mask of her guardian. Her face instantly lit up upon seeing him, reaching out and stroking his face affectionately. He leaned into her touch, resting the cool porcelain of his mask's cheek into her warm inviting hand.

"I apologise for waking you, Ellie. Come along, it's time to be in bed." She nodded, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head. She sighed as her joints cracked back into place. Standing, she looked to the older woman she had been using as a pillow. She was still fast asleep. The teenager smiled softly and followed V out of the room, her bare feet padding along the flagstones of the hall. She hooked her arm through his, causing him to laugh softly and rest his gloved hand upon hers. She smiled, resting her head on his arm.

"Now, my dear, I shall bid you a good night. Don't worry about our guest; I'll sort her so that she is more comfortable." Ellie nodded, stepping past him as he held the door for her. She hooked her arms around his neck and gave V a quick kiss goodnight before slipping under the covers and laying her head on the pillow. She was out almost instantly. V smiled behind his mask, pulling the covers up to her chin, smoothing her hair from her eyes and brushing the back of his hand along her soft, smooth cheek once, twice, three times. She sighed in content and drifted further into the realms of slumber, snuggling further under the covers. She didn't need to wake up to know she was safe. Whenever V was near, she felt like none could ever harm her again.

V quietly closed the door and once again entered the lounge. Evey hadn't moved, still sat in the same position, breathing deeply. He gently lifted her into his arms, careful not to wake her, and carried her to what was now her room. Gently, he kicked open the door and entered in, laying the sleeping woman on the bed. Pulling the covers over her, he resisted the urge to brush her cheek as he had done with Ellie. Pulling the ID out of his pocket, he slipped it back into her bag. She had been looking for it, he noticed. Things had been moved around a little. He sighed and replaced the bag, exiting the room and closing the door ever so quietly behind him. Entering the lounge only to turn off the TV, he finally retreated to his own room, ready for a much needed sleep.

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And that's chapter 5! Hope y'all liked it!

You know the drill, so I won't repeat it.


	11. Chapter 11

I'm sorry for the wait! I've been busy and I've been suffering from a little writer's block recently. Hopefully this'll spell the end of that, for the time being at least.

I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this story! Thanks for reading it guys!

Disclaimer: I've said it...about ten times now, I don't own! Only Ellie belongs to me.

"talking"

'_thinking' _

''''''''''''''''''''''changes in time

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,change in point of view

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The empty lounge greeted the vigilante as he stepped through the door. Ellie and Evey were still in bed. Well, it had been late by the time he had come back home from his 'meeting'. V sighed as he turned to the antique suit of armour hiding just out of the way in the corner.

"So, we meet again my fat metal friend." His opponent stood motionless in its position. He chuckled lightly, smiling at his own playfulness. Of course the suit of armour couldn't answer back, but he could pretend, couldn't he? He casually walked to the television, switching it on and immediately turning the volume down. He simply wanted some time to himself this morning. Just for now, while the only women in his life slept. Of course, he knew for a fact that it wouldn't be long before the teenager would be down, regardless of how early it was. Anything to see him in action. He smiled, shaking his head. She always did flatter him with her simple little ways. It still thoroughly amazed him how she still felt safe around him. He hadn't quite worked it out yet. He'd simply accepted it as a fact. Behind his mask, he smiled. How accepting a child was. He opened the glass case that held his favourite foil captive, carefully pulling it from its confines. V swung it a few times, relishing in its song as it sliced through the air. Clean, efficient, beautiful. So much more elegant than any gun could be. Such callous things, firearms. There was no art in them. The blade, however, took great skill to master. Anyone could pick up a knife and plunge it into something or someone. The same with a gun. But to actually **master** the weapon, make it into something beautiful and deadly, that was what he found attractive. Resting it lovingly on the sofa, he slipped the disk into the player, starting the movie. He didn't need to watch it anymore, he could quote it backwards if he so desired, but it was a part of his morning routine. That, and having the music playing in the background made it so much more fun to duel with his opponent. He could become part of the world on the screen, losing himself in his vast imagination. He swung the blade again, getting lost in the motion as the movie played, barely listening to the dialogue, ignoring the suit of armour. He halted the practice, holding the blade in front of him. The movie had progressed, coming to one of his favourite scenes. With a strength only he possessed, he dragged the heavy antique to the centre of the room before taking a stance. Let the duel commence.

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Evey woke with a start. How had she gotten into the bed? She remembered falling asleep with Ellie on the sofa as a movie played. V must have carried her into the room. Speaking of which... the sounds of a fight caught her attention, causing her adrenaline to rush furiously through her veins. Had they been found? What was going on? Her mind instantly went to the masked vigilante. She knew he could hold his own, but this sounded like quite a fight.

"V?" She immediately jumped out of bed and almost ran to the door. She hesitated for a moment. What if they knew she was here? Would she be safer hiding away? Her attention suddenly swept to the teenager down the corridor. What if they found Ellie? If V was still alive by then, she knew for a fact that if anything happened to the girl, the intruders would be made to pay, undoubtedly in a very painful way. The fight sounded like it was intensifying. Should she check on the girl? She followed her instinct and cautiously stepped out of the room, keeping herself pressed to the wall where she could. She was on alert, ready to bolt should she need to. She peeked round the door. A figure stood slightly behind the pillar in front of her, her short blonde hair looking slightly bedraggled. Evey recognised the figure immediately as the teenager. Coming up behind her, she tapped the girl on her shoulder, making her jump.

"What's happening?" she asked, her voice low. Ellie grinned, placing a finger to her lips and pointing towards the source of the commotion. Peeking round the pillar, she frowned, confusion taking over from fear. V was definitely in the throes of battle, his blade swiping through the air and colliding with his rival. It was his rival that was the source of her confusion. Was he really fighting with a suit of armour? No, no he couldn't be. He was a terrorist, a dealy vigilante. He had no time for fun and games. Right? But there he was, fencing with an inanimate object, and he certainly did seem to be having fun. She was startled from her reverie, however, when his opponent's 'head' came flying across the floor towards her. Ellie deftly leapt over it, a grin on her face. Evey simply stared at the helmet at her feet, the situation completely lost on her. She glanced up at the, now rather embarrassed, vigilante as he shuffled, brushing his fingers through his wig. It was strange how the mask seemed to change with his body language, even though that was quite impossible. The smiling Guy Fawkes seemed to become nervous, almost like a child caught red-handed, his hand still in the proverbial cookie jar.

"I hope I didn't wake you." Was he talking to her or to Ellie? Maybe he was talking to both. No, he was looking at her. Ellie had ran over to him and enveloped him in a hug. He hung his arm around her shoulders, ruffling her hair.

"No, you didn't. I just thought you were fighting. You know, for real." He nodded, turning his attention to the girl at his side. He said something to her, something Evey didn't hear. Ellie looked up at him, a smile in her eyes and nodded, dashing off into the kitchen. Evey's attention was drawn to the television. V followed her glance, pointing to the screen with the blade.

"My favourite film. 'The Count of Monte Cristo'." He swung the blade as he spoke, sending it whistling through the air. The character on the screen was saying something. V sighed.

"Get's me every time." Evey's brow furrowed slightly.

"I've never seen it." The vigilante actually appeared quite shocked at this revelation, though the shock passed quickly enough. It was, after all, a condemned piece of art, as was everything else in his humble abode.

"Really? Would you like to?" He smiled behind his mask as her eyes seemed to lighten with curiosity.

"Does it have a happy ending?"

"As only celluloid can deliver." His guest nodded.

"Ok." She glanced to the weapon still in his hand and then back to the vigilante. "Put the sword away, will you?" V glanced at the blade still in his hand. He had actually forgotten that he was still holding it for a moment.

"Of course, my lady."

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Ellie listened to the exchange as she waited for the kettle to boil, smiling to herself. Evey had become more relaxed in their home now. She almost felt as if their odd little group had become a family. V was all the family she had, and now Evey was part of the fold. V seemed to be a little more relaxed around her, trusting her enough to let her wander around the Gallery, although the teenager was sure that he still saw the older woman as a threat, even if it wasn't that obvious. Finally, the kettle whistled from its place on the stove. Grabbing the tea towel, she carefully lifted the metal container from the fire and poured the boiling liquid into the pot on the side. Now all she had to do was wait for the tea to brew and then her task would be complete. Leaning against the frame, she smiled at the sight in front of her. V and Evey were sitting together on the couch, although there was a distance between them. How wonderful it would be if Evey could stay forever, them all being a happy family. Of course, she didn't always believe in such fairytales. She had always thought that her own family would always be there with her, but then they had been snatched away. Ellie wasn't sure if she believed in guardian angels or the such, but she was sure that, when V had found her and taken her into his world, something had been there with her. She didn't believe in coincidence, but whether that was from V's influence or of her own volition, she couldn't tell. Maybe it was both? Shaking her head, she went back to her task, opening the fridge and taking the milk out of the cool insides of the appliance, replacing it after emptying some of the contents into the cups on the side. Pouring the hot, now golden brown, liquid into the cups, she set the porcelain down and proceeded through to the lounge, handing a cup to Evey before sitting herself down between the adults. Evey nodded to the girl, ruffling her hair. The teenager pouted at her, smoothing her hair back down into place. The woman smiled, turning her attention back to the screen. There was something very comfortable with this situation, her sitting between the two adults, the silence broken only by the dialogue and music of the movie. It was...nice. Ellie smiled to herself. Yes, she could just imagine them all as one happy family, allowing herself to become lost in the fantasy.

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The movie ended. V chuckled to himself as he echoed the final line. Ellie smiled, looking to him. Her light blue eyes met the onyx eye slits of the mask. He patted her head and turned his attention to the woman.

"Did you like it?" The teen looked to her, her eyes expectant. She frowned, however, when she noticed that the woman had tears in her eyes.

"Yeah. But it made me feel sorry for Mercedes." Her voice was cracking with emotion as she looked between them. Ellie smiled sympathetically, patting the woman's leg.

"Why?" Evey looked at the vigilante.

"Because he cared more about revenge than he did about her." V nodded in understanding. Something about that phrase struck him, though he couldn't explain why. The movie's titles were suddenly replaced with an emergency news report. V made a move to shut it off, but Evey stopped him. Ellie leaned in closer to the TV, a frown on her face. Lewis Prothero? Dead? The teenager wasn't sure whether she should be happy, sad, or simply apathetic. Evey certainly seemed concerned. Next to her, V seemed tense all of a sudden, though he was hiding it very well. Well, from Evey anyway. The older woman leaned forwards.

"She's lying." Ellie looked to her, cocking her head questioningly to the side. V turned to the woman.

"How do you know?" Any emotion was covered by the tone of curiosity.

"She blinks a lot when she does a story she knows is false." V nodded, though he didn't take his attention away from the woman. He only averted his gaze when she nervously glanced to him. The news report ended, leaving them in silence for the briefest of moments. Evey's expression shifted to a thoughtful uncertainty. Would he have? He couldn't have...could he?

"V?" The vigilante turned his attention back to her.

"Yes, Evey?" Her brow furrowed further as she thought how to word her next sentence, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

"Last night i couldn't find my ID, though Ellie and I looked all over. You didn't take it did you?" Ellie glanced at the woman and then back to the vigilante. V wouldn't have done that, would he? He sighed a little, turning to the teenager.

"Ellie, my dear. Would you mind leaving us for the moment?" She looked between the two adults before nodding her head. They were going to have a 'grown-up talk'. Standing from between them, she exited the room. They waited until they heard the sound of her door closing before they continued. And even then, V stayed silent for a moment. Would Evey tell Ellie? He didn't want the girl to know what he had done, but he knew that the woman would not let up if he didn't answer. He could easily lie to her, tell her that she had simply misplaced it. But he also knew that it was pointless. She would find out sooner or later. _'May as well get this over with.'_

"V? You didn't answer my question."

"Would you prefer a lie or the truth?" Evey's expression changed into one of shock as she stood from the couch, facing him.

"Did you...you didn't, did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you have anything to do with...that?" Again, he could lie, tell her what she wanted to hear, but that would make him a hypocrite, and he refused to become such a thing.

"Yes. I killed him." Her eyes widened, a disbelief flashing through them. She stammered, not able to meet his gaze.

"You're upset."

"I'm upset? Yes I'm upset! You just admitted that you killed Lewis Prothero!"

"I might have killed the men that attacked you, but I heard no complaints then."

"That was different!"

"How so? Because I saved you?" She nodded.

"Evey, besides what you think, violence can be used for good."

"What? How?"

"Justice."

"Right. Of course. Justice."

"There's no court in England for men like Prothero. No court on Earth, in fact." Evey was silent for the moment, shock and disbelief warring inside her.

"How could you...? Does Ellie know about this?" V's head snapped round, fixing her with what she felt was a hard glare.

"No. And she is not going to know, either." his voice had become calmer, and somehow more deadly, though the woman seemed to ignore the tone. Her own shock had given way to anger as she faced him.

"Why? You've told her everything else, I'm sure. Why would this be different?"

"Because I intend to protect her from it. She will not be brought into this, Evey." His voice became even calmer, colder even, and carried a dark undertone, a warning, one that told her he would do anything to protect the girl. And that meant anything. No limitations. Evey was still a stranger in this place, and right now, she felt more like a prisoner than ever before. What was to stop him from killing her, too? Just to keep Ellie unaware of his other, darker, murderous side. She actually found herself backing away as he lifted himself from the sofa. He stepped towards her, closing the gap steadily until he was in front of her, though not close enough to actually touch her.

"You will keep the girl out of this. This will be kept between us. I will not have any form of harm come to her. **Any **form. Do we understand each other, Evey?" His voice was soft, yet dangerous. In her eyes, he seemed to be looming, the monster within him allowing itself to be seen in all its dark glory. Evey gulped and nodded. V had shown how dangerous he could be, thinking nothing of killing another. He nodded once, backing away from the woman. She visibly relaxed a little.

"Forgive me, Evey. I did not mean to frighten you. But I must be certain that you will not tell Ellie about this. You must understand that I would rather die than have her know anything about my other side." Evey nodded.

"I-I understand, V. I swear, I won't tell her anything. But what if she finds out? What will you do then?" The vigilante sighed.

"I will cross that bridge when, and if, I get to it. But for now, let us keep this between ourselves." Evey nodded, watching him leave the room and head down the corridor towards the teenager's bedroom. She collapsed onto the sofa, allowing her thoughts to run away with her, willing her heart to stop trying to pound its way out of her chest. She had to get out of here somehow. V was too dangerous to be around, and she didn't fully trust herself to keep the secret to herself. She didn't know how yet, but she would find a way. A plan was already forming in her head.

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Finally! You have no idea how much trouble I had with this chapter. I must have gone through about ten drafts until I got this. I hope you enjoyed it! Remember, if you didn't, let me know what you didn't like about it constructively and I will bear it in mind for the next chapters.

I don't own any quotes from the movie. They all belong to the writers.

Freedom! Forever!


	12. Chapter 12

Hey guys! Sorry about the wait, I've suffered absolutely terrible writer's block with all my stories, but hopefully this signals the end of it. So, on with the story, and I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for waiting so patiently.

Disclaimer: Only Ellie belongs to me.

''''''''''''''''''''Changes in time

...Changes in place

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Evey lay upon the bed, staring up at the stone ceiling. Decision and indecision racked her thoughts as she clutched a small piece of paper to her chest. So many different scenarios raced through her imagination, it was dizzying. Thinking of a plan of escape was harder than she had first thought. She had a vague idea of what she wanted to do, or, at least, where she wanted to go, but getting to that point was the hard part. How could she escape from somewhere she wasn't familiar with? Was she even in London anymore? After all, when V brought her into his world, she was unconscious. V. She shuddered suddenly. She had begun to warm to the masked man, even beginning to actually trust him and accept him as a common presence in her life, but after that afternoon...She had to leave. The way he had suddenly changed from, in her opinion, eccentric to dangerous had completely unnerved her. So much so that she couldn't even remain in the same room as him. Frowning a little, she shifted onto her side, casting her gaze to the heavy wooden door. What about Ellie? The teenager had very much accepted the older woman into her life, and Evey would be lying if she said that the young girl hadn't left an impression on her. Her frown deepened as she thought about the girl. Ellie would be devastated if Evey left her. After all that the teenager had been through in her young life, how would she cope with having someone she had come to accept as family suddenly abandon her? True, she had V, but Evey was like a big sister to her. With an angry sigh, the woman pushed herself up and into a sitting position. No, as much as she wanted to rush it along, Evey would just have to bide her time, at least until the perfect opportunity presented itself.

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Something was wrong. She didn't know what, but Ellie knew that something was off between the two adults. Ever since they had their 'adult talk', they had been avoiding each other. Well, Evey had been avoiding V, and, to that point, her. What was wrong? The teenager brushed her fringe from her eyes as she looked across the table to the empty space where Evey used to sit, looking questioningly to V. He either didn't notice, or chose to ignore it. Ellie sighed, shaking her head. That confirmed it. Something was definitely wrong between the two adults, and it was beginning to bother her. Staring at her now empty plate, brows furrowed in thought, she began to think of many different possibilities. It had started after the news about that man. What was his name? Prothero or something. Anyway, it had started after his death. Well, that wasn't entirely true. It had started after the point of Evey's missing ID card had come up. Why would V ask the teenager to leave if he was innocent? Why would he want her ID card anyway? No, V wouldn't take it. Sighing again, she shook her head slightly. It was all too confusing.

"Ellie, my dear. Is something troubling you?" The teenager turned to the man standing by the sink. He had been watching her intently for the past few minutes. Ellie turned her eyes down a little, a small frown plaguing her features for the briefest of moments, before she sighed one last time and allowed a soft smile to appear. She looked up to the vigilante and shook her head. He cocked his head slightly, a sign that he didn't fully believe her. She raised an eyebrow in response, folding her arms across her chest. V chuckled softly, patting her head. She batted at his hand, pushing it off and frowning at the offending appendage. His hand landed on her shoulder, her cheek coming down to meet it. nuzzling the leather of the glove for a moment, her head perked up as a sound caught her ears. Apparently V had picked up on it at the same time, his head turning to watch as a rather dishevelled Evey entered the lounge area. It would appear that she had slept in her clothes, given the creases in them.

"Good morning Evey." The woman started a little, turning to the man and teenager.

"Oh. Morning." Ellie's face fell into a concerned frown at the clipped, uneasy greeting.

"You slept well, I trust?"

"Yeah, fine." She turned to go back the way she had come, only to find her hand captive in a smaller hand. She looked down to the young girl, who had suddenly appeared at her side, a small frown on her face. She looked to the masked man, who simply stood and did nothing. The speed the girl had moved had surprised him, but it wasn't actually unforeseen. Ellie began pulling her towards the table, and the woman was helpless to do anything more than comply. Sitting down in her usual seat, she glanced at the man from the corner of her eye. The atmosphere became a little heavier, awkward even. The silence in the kitchen area was almost stifling.

"Would you like some breakfast, Evey?" The woman looked up with a start, the silence suddenly snapping.

"Um, yeah, sure." Ellie watched the adults, reminded of the very first time Evey had come to their breakfast table. The girl found herself looking to the v-shaped scar upon her brow, almost expecting to see a lump or a bruise. She fought to hide a smile as Evey looked around the kitchen, though the smile didn't last long. They were back to square one. Why?

'_Is it something I've done?' _ She shook her head, deciding now would be a good time to remove her plate. Dumping the crockery piece into the sink, she excused herself with a nod of the head and exited the area. The adults watched after her, then looked to each other. Evey turned her gaze away. she couldn't look at that mask without thinking back to how menacing it had looked that night.

"Evey..." She looked up to him.

"V, about the other afternoon...did you mean it?"

"To what are you referring?"

"...About doing anything for Ellie?" It hadn't been the question she had wanted to ask, but she had feared the consequences of asking about his personal vendetta. His head bowed slightly.

"Yes. I will not have her getting hurt in anyway."

"And that includes her knowing..." V cut her off short, raising his hand.

"Evey, what I said that day, I meant. I will not have her hurt in **any** way." Evey nodded.

"I see." The silence fell once again, and neither one made any attempt to lift it.

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The day had seemed to drag onwards, a certain glumness settling upon the Shadow Gallery. Evey had once again shut herself away, and V was sitting in the library area. Ellie had taken her usual position upon the chaise longue, book in hand. The silence was permeated by the soft melody from the juke box. It would have been relaxing, had it not been for the overhanging sense of uncertainty. Ellie frowned as she read the same line again, looking up when movement caught her eye. Evey had surfaced once again, wearing a very nice looking purple top. She had clearly washed and changed, her hair falling in loose curls. The woman flashed a look to the teenager and smiled, coming towards her.

"Elle, is V busy?" Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper. Ellie shook her head, looking towards the library. Evey smiled again, ruffling the teen's hair. She clicked her tongue loudly, brushing at her hair again, a playful frown on her face. Evey winked, turning back to the library and walking through the arch. Ellie's face lit up and she strained to hear their conversation. She knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but curiosity was coursing through her at such a pace that she just couldn't let it go untamed. She could hear snippets of words coming through the archway, though not enough to make sensible sentences. At least, not without making it obvious. Frowning, Ellie decided to give it up as a lost cause. Either that, or get caught.

...

V listened silently as the woman recounted her early life to him. Her parents had been activists, visibly against the Sutler's party and its ideas. They had dragged a young Evey into their world, handing out flyers to anyone who would stand still long enough. He listened patiently as she told him how they argued. And he listened as she told him about the fateful night they were ripped away from her.

"It was like those black bags erased them from the face of the Earth, as if they never existed."

"I'm sorry Evey."

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm sorry that I unloaded all this onto you. I just wish that I could stop being afraid of it. I wish I wasn't afraid all the time, but...I am." She fell silent for a moment, before turning to the vigilante. "That's why I wanted you to know that if there is anything, anything at all, I can do to help, I will. What you said to me that afternoon, it made me realise that you would be willing to risk so much for your cause, and this is the only way I can think of repaying you. And Ellie." She sighed. "I'm like you, V. I don't want anything to happen to Ellie. I don't want her to get hurt, either." V lowered his head in thought. Evey stood, about to walk away, then turned back to him.

"If there is anything, you will let me know, won't you?"

"If you wish." She nodded, turning and leaving him to his thoughts. She smiled at the teenager, retreating once again to her room. Picking up the piece of paper she had left on the bed, she looked at it once again. What she was planning, she didn't know, but Evey did know that whatever plot came to her head, she had already laid the first stepping stones. Now, the waiting game really could begin.

...

Thanks for reading all! Hope you enjoyed it! Once again, constructive criticism is always accepted, flames shall be extinguished.


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